


Where the Wild Things Are

by Annie46fic



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Feral!Jared, M/M, Psychologist!Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:35:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annie46fic/pseuds/Annie46fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Animal Psychologist, Jensen Ackles has been sent on a very mysterious mission for the US Government. When he finally meets the <i>‘animal’</i> they want him to tame, he realizes that he is out of his depth. Will he be able to fulfill his dangerous mission or will he leave his strange charge in the hands of people who do not really understand him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on my LJ in 2009.

It is New Years Eve 1981 and everyone wants to celebrate in their own special way. 

The Padalecki’s are one of the most powerful and richest families in Vancouver and their son and his pregnant wife are both a little drunk, excitement fueled by alcohol and youth. They decide that they want to see in the New Year in the air.

The pilot cannot say no. You don’t say no to Gerald Padalecki, particularly if you know who his father is. He takes out one of the smallest planes, plans the route carefully and takes them up.

The storm comes along quick. The plane is caught in it and there is no escape. The pilot cannot control the plane and the young couple on board have no say in the matter. They are wrapped in each others arms as the plane goes down, deep in the Vancouver forests, miles away from civilization, the plane catching on the denseness of the trees as it falls.

****

The wife crawls out from the plane, alive by some miracle. She clings on to life long enough to give birth, alone and in pain, no contact made with the outside world, natural and feral, the baby big and healthy beside her.

For a while it looks as if both mother and son will die. Once the mother has gone, the baby is alone, no one to hear his cries.

The wolf bitches litter was born only days ago. She lost one of her pups, the weakest, and she responds to the cries that she hears. She sniffs at the bodies, human, but no danger to her and then she takes the screaming creature gently in her snout and carries him back to her lair.

And it is there that the story and the legend begin.

****

**Present Day**

Jensen doesn’t really know why he got into Animal Psychology. Hell, he can’t begin to work his own screwed up life out, let alone help animals and their owners with their distress.

He likes animals sure and he likes people as well and somehow, with his degree and his qualifications and some luck he ended up doing this. He spent his days working in a small office in a large Vets surgery, spending his days trying to get cats to eat and dogs to stop biting their owners.

He likes his job, honest he does, it is the only secure thing in his life right now, especially since Tom left. He was lonely, sure he had friends, but he wanted, no, he needed, someone to love.

“Jensen?” His boss, Ellen, was an attractive older woman and very understanding. She looked harried, harassed, her white coat unbuttoned, her blouse rumpled, her hair tied back in an untidy bow. “Jensen – I need your help – with a very, very unusual request.”

He followed her into her office and sat in the uncomfortable looking chair. She was twitchy, a frown denting her forehead and she fumbled with the file in front of her.

“What is it Ellen?” He asked. He was tired, it had been a long day, he had dealt with two willful dogs, a nervous cat and a budgie that never made a sound. He had dealt with their owners as well and that had been as nerve wracking.

“There is a situation up at the Lavender clinic.” She played with the file again, her eyes haunted. “They need an expert.”

“Lavender clinic is – is – they have problem adults up there. Is this – do they have an animal problem?”

“Not exactly. Look, this is highly unusual and could be construed as very controversial. If the press get hold of it, it is going to cause a riot of the very largest proportions. They asked me to deal with it because I have an Animal Psychologist on my team, they have your human counterpart dealing with it at the moment but he isn’t doing so well.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not at liberty to tell you,” she said and sighed, obviously frustrated. “All I can tell you is that they need you over there now. They will fill you in when you get there. From this moment Jensen, you are an employee of the United States Government – good luck.”

****

The Lavender Clinic looked modern and ordinary. It was what, in the less PC days, would have been called a lunatic asylum but now was just known by its rather flowery name. Jensen parked his battered old car in the driveway and got out, staring up at the anonymous building and wondering what the hell he was actually doing there.

The security was tight as he entered and he had to identify himself and sign himself in. He noticed that there were several Police officers surrounding the reception and the staff looked very nervous.

A harassed looking man in a white coat and rubber gloves came over to him. The man was older than him with greying hair and a careworn expression. He rubbed at his stubble, pulling off one glove and offering his hand to Jensen.

“Dr Ackles?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Do you – do you have an animal problem?”

“Of sorts.” The man forced a smile. “You need to know that this is not something any of us has dealt with before. I also need you to know that you have been drafted in because – well – because the _‘expert’_ the bosses upstairs sent is now in intensive care.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry, I’m Dr Jeff Morgan and I’m in charge for now. I guess the best way forward is for you to come and see just what we are dealing with.”

Jensen followed him. They went down two flights of stairs into a corridor that looked like something from _‘Silence of the Lambs’_ and then came to a stop outside a large, glass fronted room that looked like a very high tech zoo cage.

Jeff Morgan said nothing and Jensen paused for a long moment and then peered inside.

The room was clinical in its emptiness. No bed, no sink, no bathroom facility. There was a pile of straw in the corner of the room, a bowl of, what looked like, meat and a large tub of water. Jensen frowned and then his heart leaped into his throat as something moved into his field of vision and he wondered if he were hallucinating.

It was a man, he was sure of it, large boned and well-muscled, his tanned skin healthy looking but scarred in places, marks on the naked flesh. 

He wore no clothes and he was hunched almost on all fours, sitting back on his haunches, his forearms in front of him, his toes, the nails incredibly long, curled into the concrete floor. His fingers were long, the length enhanced by his nails, which curled like talons into his hands.

His hair was long, longer than Jensen had ever seen on a person. It hung over his shoulders and down his bare back, covering most of his body. His face was obscured by a thick, chestnut colored beard, only his nose and, wild-looking, slanting eyes visible. Jensen bit back a gasp.

“What the hell…?” He finally got out, aware that he was clinging to Morgan’s arm.

“A human – found two weeks ago in the middle of the largest forest around here. Savage, wild, uncontrollable. His behavior is that of an animal, he shows no human traits whatsoever and we cannot get near enough to him to actually examine him, or touch him in any way. A human psychologist went in last week; he is the one who is now in intensive care, his throat half torn away. We need someone who – who has a way with animals. We have been told that you are very good.”

“I talk to dogs and cats, sometimes birds!” Jensen was staring at the man, wondering what-the-fuck? “This is – this is something – something very, very different.”

“You can imagine what an impact this would have on everything we know. There have been _‘wild’_ children before but never one this old, never one who has survived so long without human contact. We do not know how to handle him, we have no benchmark for this but, what concerns me, is that if we don’t try – he is going to – we are going to have to….” He trailed off but not before Jensen had mentally filled in the blanks. He stared back in at the man who was still hunched in the same spot, his eyes desperate, his whole body so tense that Jensen knew he was ready to pounce at the first thing that he saw.

“Are they expecting me to go in there?” He finally asked his heart in his mouth.

“You would be amply rewarded for this,” Jeff murmured and Jensen gazed at him, unable to form much of a response.

After all, what good is money if you are dead?


	2. Chapter 2

Jensen swallowed hard and put his hand on the handle of the door, his heart thundering.

He wondered why the hell he had agreed to do this. This wasn’t some nervous puppy or a dog that refused to obey. This was a human being but a human being that had ripped the throat out of the last person to actually enter his _‘domain’_. Jensen gulped back real fear; he must be insane to try this.

Behind him were three cops with stun guns. Apparently, they had been here the last time too but the attack had been so quick that they hadn’t even been able to get a shot in and, by the time the darts had found flesh, it had been too late.

Jensen opened the door and was overwhelmed by the sudden stench that assailed his nostrils. Sweat, dirt, bodily fluids, all combined to make an almost unbearable odor. He was pretty sure that the man had been _‘marking’_ his territory and he realized that, if he was going to do this, he had to think of the man as if he really were an animal.

The man lay on the straw, curled up like a dog. Jensen figured that he must have been brought up by bears or wolves and that he must have been part of a pack. He wondered, suddenly, at the wisdom of actually bringing the man here, of taking him away from his _‘family’_ , from his pack. The man had obviously been well-cared for and looked healthy enough but he was also quite clearly scared and defensive, in a strange place, separated from the only security he had ever known.

The man’s head shot up, alert, those strange eyes on Jensen, mouth curling back underneath the beard, teeth bared into a snarl.

Jensen flattened himself onto the ground instantly, making himself lower than the man. He had to show that he was lower in the pack order, that the man was _‘top dog’_ and that Jensen would bow down to whatever the man wanted.

Jensen kept himself still, low, flat. He didn’t attempt to make eye-contact, didn’t attempt to move. He could hear the man making noises, soft growls in the back of his throat, little whimpers of confusion.

Jensen breathed deep and even. He could hear the man moving towards him, hear the clack of nails on the floor, the overwhelming scent cloying and sickening in his nostrils. He felt the man’s breath on the back of his neck, felt the pressure of the man’s large hand on his spine. The man was sniffing at him, trying to make him out. Jensen continued to lie still and flat, waiting.

The man prodded at him with his fingers and Jensen figured that now was the time. He rolled over onto his back, feeling more than a little foolish, that emotion mixing in with mild terror and curiosity. He was aware that he was being watched closely by the others, safe behind glass, observing.

If he failed then the man before him may not lose just his liberty but his life. He had understood, only too clearly, Jeff’s meaning the other day. He realized that they wouldn’t let the man go free again, he had seen humans now and it was too late for him to go back.

The man gave a little whimper and pushed at Jensen with his hand. His face came so close that the beard brushed against Jensen’s skin, his nose buried in Jensen’s neck. The man was panting now and his body language was totally different. His eyes were on Jensen’s face, his hands on Jensen’s chest. Jensen swallowed hard, understanding. It was a tiny first step but a step none the less. The man had accepted him; the man now believed that Jensen was not a threat, that Jensen was subservient to him, that Jensen meant no harm.

The man sat back on his haunches again and cocked his head to one side. He pushed some of the meat towards Jensen, an offer of food and Jensen, reluctantly, moved towards it, taking a tiny portion and lifting it to his mouth, its bloody rawness making him heave.

He ate slowly, chewing hesitantly, the man watching him, trusting. The man gave a little whimper and moved nearer, nudging Jensen with his shoulder. Jensen nudged back, just a little and the man gave a happy bleat, the fear in his eyes suddenly dimmed. Jensen didn’t move, just continued to sit in the same manner as his new companion eating slowly but surely and building up a trust between them.

He was aware that he would have to leave soon. He had no idea what the next stage would be but he felt a sudden compassion for his new _‘friend’_. The man didn’t even know he was human, as far as he was concerned he was just a wolf, a young male torn away from his pack and now he was in a place he neither recognized or understood and it was in Jensen’s power to make him feel more at ease, to give him something – someone – that he could trust.

He finished chewing and licked at his fingers. Bright eyes watched him and the man sat back again, cleaning his own fingers and then proceeding to lick at his arms and then his legs. Jensen watched, fascinated. He had never seen such an action in a human before, never seen a human so at ease and at home in his body. It was oddly elegant, strangely moving and he felt a lump in his throat as the man yawned suddenly and began to move back to his straw, curling up into a tight ball and letting his eyes close.

Jensen took the opportunity to get out of the room at that moment. He was reluctant, almost sad, to leave the man behind. He felt a great sympathy for him, believed, deep in his heart, that he should never have been brought here. The man was not and never could be human and he would have been better off in the forests where he belonged.

****

“Impressive!” Jeff Morgan shook his hand as he was led into a small, private office. “I never thought you would pull it off.”

Jensen nodded but said nothing. There was nothing to say really and he knew, whatever his opinion, they would do what they wanted with the wild man inside the room.

“You have to stay here.” A man that Jensen had never seen before entered the office. He was tall, bald and his tone was official. “I have had the intern get you some quarters and I have arranged for a car to bring your things here.”

“What?” Jensen shook his head. “Now look here….”

“Dr Ackles, what you just did was nothing short of a miracle. Now we need to set stage two in process and you are integral to our plans.”

“Stage two?” Jensen frowned, his heart thumping. “What the fuck is stage two?”

“We need to examine the man. We need to find out his exact age, his state of health. We need to treat him for any diseases he may have picked up and, most importantly; we need to integrate him back into the human race.”

“Mr…whatever your name is – there is no way that that man is EVER going to be human. His reactions, his thoughts, his instincts are all animal. He is feral – beyond wild - and my guess is that he is too old to learn new tricks. Could you teach your dog to talk? Your cat to sit at a table? I don’t think so.”

“Dr Ackles.” The man sat down and smiled at Jensen, silky smooth. “Have you ever heard of the Padalecki's?”

“Of course,” Jensen said, frowning, wondering why they had suddenly gone so off track. “Who hasn’t – they are the richest family in the whole of fucking America, fingers in dozens of pies and owners of some of the biggest finance houses, and then some.”

“Then you must have heard about their great tragedy back in '81? The son – Gerald – his plane went down in the Vancouver forest and he and his pregnant – heavily pregnant – wife were killed.”

“I’ve read about it and seen documentaries but what has that got to do with the man in there?”

“There were reports that the wife went into labor before the plane went down. Searches found the wreckage and Gerald’s body but hers was never found but two miles from the crash site they found blood and, what looked like, a placenta.”

“What are you saying to me?”

“I’m saying . . . .” The bald man reached out and touched Jensen’s wrist. “I’m saying that the man in that room, is the Padalecki’s missing heir and therefore I will not – cannot – let him stay in that condition. We need to try Dr Ackles. For his sake, you need to try.”

Jensen stared at him, mouth dry, his heart thundering in his chest.

“What if I say no?”

“No, Dr Ackles, is not an option.”


	3. Chapter 3

Jensen was aware of the weight of the meat in his pocket. It was wrapped carefully and contained enough sleeping draught to knock out an elephant.

He felt almost like Judas, a betrayer. He knew that the man trusted him and that he must continue to earn that trust and yet, here he was, drugged meat in his coat, ready to subject the poor creature to more fear and torture.

He remembered, with dreadful clarity, the conversation he’d had with the officious bald guy – a Dr Rosenbaum, a Government expert (and how he’d enough of those already). How they wanted to introduce the feral man back into society, how they wanted to save him, to take him back to his rich relations, maybe gain a vast fortune in return.

Jensen was pretty sure, hell, he was absolutely certain that it wouldn’t be possible. He could see that the _‘experts’_ didn’t understand, that they couldn’t see the man as anything else but that. Jensen felt a deep sadness as he put his hand on the door knob. As harsh as it seemed, the man was nothing close to human and no amount of money or threats was ever going to change that.

Jensen went down to his knees, instantly, his hands held low, his eyes downcast. He heard the man start to move, a soft snuffling close to his ears, indicating that the man was close to him. He felt a lick along the back of his neck, the man’s overwhelming scent making him dizzy.

 

A large hand tipped him over and Jensen went onto his back without hesitation. The man gave a growl that was happy rather than threatening and he prodded Jensen with his fingers, sharp talons scratching through the thin fabric of the plain t-shirt that he wore. Jensen held his breath, aware that the man was straddling him, that the man’s body was as close to him as he possibly could be.

The man was huge; he was feral, wild, his body tight against Jensen’s, and his face buried into Jensen’s neck. Jensen held his breath, his fingers reaching, gingerly, into the pocket of his coat to pull out the meat. He was trying to stop his body from trembling, trying to keep as still and as silent as he could. The man was whimpering, small noises in the back of his throat, his body pressed taut along Jensen’s, the hard prod of his erection against the denim of Jensen’s thigh.

The man was, no doubt, lonely and confused, lost in a world and in a place that he did not understand. He had been torn away from his _‘family’_ ; he had been part of a pack that would have had a specific _‘pecking’_ order. He might even have had a mate. Jensen knew that the man’s body was just reacting to the hard body against his own, knew that it meant nothing, but it still made him feel uneasy, vulnerable and he hated that feeling. He let the man lick at his neck, paw at his chest, until, finally he got out the piece of drugged meat and held it out so that the man could smell it, could see it for what it was.

The man sat back suddenly, letting Jensen move. He sniffed at the meat, putting his head down to it and ripping into it with his teeth. Jensen noticed that they were white, in good condition really considering, and obviously very strong. There was blood dribbling down the man’s chin and he ate with gusto, soft growls of contentment in the back of his throat.

Jensen felt a strange lump in his throat as the man suddenly paused and held a piece of meat out to Jensen. It hung between his teeth and Jensen recognized the gesture, the man was accepting Jensen as part of his _‘pack’_ , he was now committed to caring for Jensen, for feeding him, for protecting him. Jensen swallowed hard, knowing he could not accept the gift of food, knowing that the drugs would affect him.

The man’s eyes were bright, alert and he made a strange noise, thrusting his head forward. Jensen was careful to keep his hands low, stretching his neck and taking the meat, gingerly, in between his own teeth, making sure not to taste it. The man was watching him, sitting back on his haunches in that familiar way, Jensen felt low then, guilty and sad, his emotions almost blinding him.

There was a sudden groan from the man, the most human sound Jensen had heard him make. His huge frame shuddered and he listed sideways, his eyes blurring, wild and panicked as he fell, limbs flailing. Jensen watched in horror as he collapsed to the floor, his breathing shallow and faint.

There was a thump and the door flew open, five or six people charging in, grabbing the man, forcing his inert form onto a low gurney, straps and chains already being fastened around his body. Jensen stayed where he was, lump hard in his throat, his eyes fixed on the man’s unconscious figure.

“What are you going to do with him?” He asked, as Jeff came into the room, flanked by the obnoxious, Dr Rosenbaum.

“Keep him out of it, for a while. Then examine him, take blood, and skin samples. Then we are going to clean him up, wash him, and cut off that disgusting hair.” Dr Rosenbaum looked almost pleased with himself. “I want you there for that, we need someone he trusts nearby – just in case of emergency.”

“He – it isn’t fair on him, he needs to go back home.” Jensen wasn’t afraid of Rosenbaum, he felt disgusted at both the doctor and himself. “You can’t domesticate him! He isn’t – this isn’t a human being, don’t you understand how scared he is? How alone?”

“I don’t give a damn about your humane opinions.” Rosenbaum was up into Jensen’s face in an instant. “You will aid us on this, or you will never work again – I will personally see to it. This is vital. Just imagine, how happy the Padalecki’s will be to get their heir back. Just imagine how much of a reward they will give us and imagine what we can do with it.”

“You are insane.” Jensen’s stomach hurt and he felt as if he might vomit. He stared down at Rosenbaum’s fancy shoes wishing that he could throw up on them, and spit at his smug face. He glanced at the prone figure being carried out of the room and bit back bitter regret.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Forgive me.”

***

He slept a little and ate the sandwich he had been given.

The room that had been allocated to him was small, anonymous and he sat on the bed, flicking through TV channels, not really seeing.

He was buzzed two hours later, half dozing on the bed when the call came. They wanted him in the infirmary as soon as possible, the man was awake and they were having trouble handling him despite the restraints.

He was nervous as he went down. He had dressed plainly, t-shirt, faded denim jeans and battered boots. He hadn’t shaved in a while and there was rusty stubble on his chin. He wore his wire-rimmed glasses, his lenses making his eyes sore. His stomach ached and his head felt heavy, dread filling him.

The infirmary was cold, white, clinical, the smell of bleach and paint strong in his nostrils. Machines beeped and clicked, several of the beds occupied with patients, some sleeping, others watching as Jensen hurried past.

There was a private room in the corner, two armed guards standing outside, their eyes on Jensen’s face. He flashed his ID at them and they nodded, letting him by and he went in, wondering what the hell he was going to find.

“Jensen.” Jeff’s face was pale, shadows beneath his eyes. “Thank God.”

“What happened?” Jensen could see the bed, see the crowd surrounding it. He could hear the cries too, inhuman howls, pain-filled and on the edge of real terror. He knew what it was and he felt sick again.

“He came around, over an hour ago. We cannot keep drugging him, his system won’t take it. We have done the tests – they have all come back and we’ve cleaned him up. Jensen, to see him like that – it . . . to me, it has made it real. You were right, Jensen. What we are doing here? It is inhumane.”

Jensen took a deep breath and moved towards the bed. The crowd parted for him and he bent forward, his breath catching in his throat as he saw what they had done.

The man was restrained. His wrists were tethered to the bed with leather straps and strong handcuffs. His torso was strapped down, his thighs and ankles tied. He moved his head, restlessly, neck straining, the sounds that came from his mouth mournful and inhuman.

Jeff had been right; they had cleaned him up and, somehow, it had made the situation much worse. The grime and dirt had gone from his body and now he wore a white hospital gown covering his torso. His hair was cut roughly, still long but choppy, curling around his throat. The beard was gone and Jensen could see, with some alarm, just how young he was. His cheekbones were strong and high, his mouth wide, oddly human dimples in his cheeks. Wild hazel eyes dripped with tears and his lips were blood-stained where he kept biting at them, frantic and panicked.

***

Jensen moved into his field of vision and knelt down, careful not to touch, just trying to make eye contact.

The man saw him suddenly and his howls of panic died down to soft whimpers, his bright eyes fixed on Jensen’s face, fingers, trapped in their leather and metal prison, flexing, nails digging into the cotton sheets.

Jensen could see the terrible fear in the man’s eyes; see how young and how vulnerable he was without his mask of hair and dirt. He bent over the gurney and risked lifting his hand, rubbing his fingers through the man’s soft chestnut hair.

“It will be alright.” He stroked the man as if he were a sick dog, his hand moving rhythmically, his voice as soft and soothing as he could make it. The man made a strange sound, half whimper, half sob, tears still pouring from his eyes. He turned his head so that he could press it into Jensen’s palm, his whole body relaxing under Jensen’s touch.

“It will be alright.” Jensen said again, hoping, praying, that he was telling the truth.


	4. Chapter 4

Jensen is the only one allowed into the man’s room alone.

They figure he is safe, that the man trusts him and they, probably, figure right. The man has accepted Jensen, he sees him as one of his pack. Jensen has unlimited access to the man day and night and now he sits at the side of the bed, his hand on the man’s wrist, his mouth dry as he watches the man suffer.

They have kept him sedated and restrained. Tied to the bed and unable to move. He wasn’t eating and they had had to put glucose drips in his hands just to keep him alive. He looked pale, sick, his eyes shadowed and Jensen could feel his throat tighten as the man whimpered in the back of his throat and pulled, fruitlessly, at his restraints.

***

“You can’t keep him like this!” Jensen exploded angrily as soon as Dr Rosenbaum arrived. “You are killing him, he is dying.”

“He isn’t eating.” Dr Rosenbaum’s face was expressionless. “But we do have the situation under control.”

“You don’t have anything under fucking control.” Jensen whirled around, facing Jeff. “Listen to me, you know I am right, Jeff. You can’t keep him tied up like this, he needs – he needs to get out. He needs to be in the fresh air. If this continues, all you will have to hand over to the Padalecki’s is a corpse.”

“I need you to help him then.” Dr Rosenbaum’s smile was cold, calculating. “You need to start working on him – to start _‘taming’_ him. If you can keep him calm for more than a week then I will consider letting him out but you need to work on that, Dr Ackles. The responsibility in all of this lies with you.”

Jensen felt his throat go dry and he clenched his fists, thrusting them into his pocket to stop himself from punching the doctor right in the center of his smug face. His head was fuzzy with weariness and he realized, with a stab of sadness that he was as much as a prisoner here as his poor charge.

***

Jensen cut up the chicken carefully and placed it into a bowl. He sighed, his back aching, his shoulders tense. He stretched upwards; flexing his fingers and then went back to preparing the food, hoping that his plan would work.

He had spent a few hours researching, mostly animal training but, specifically, specialist work with chimpanzees. He realized that his strange _‘friend’_ thought he was a wolf but, ultimately, he was human and he might respond to this method of training better. Jensen had been astonished as he had read the internet reports. Chimpanzees were man’s closest relatives and men had trained them to do all manner of things. He could only hope and pray that he could get through to the man because if he couldn’t they were both in big trouble.

***

He sat on the edge of the bed and slowly, carefully, loosened the man’s restraints. The man seemed aware that he was there and his eyes opened. Jensen made a soothing noise with his tongue and reached out, gently stroking the man’s hair, a comforting gesture that seemed to work. The man made a low growl in his throat and tried to sit up, groaning with frustration as the strap across his abdomen stopped his movements. Jensen stroked his hair again, lifting a pillow so the man could prop his head against it.

He looked terrible, his muscles beginning to waste, his face thin and pale, his wrists bloody and sore from his constant attempts to break free. He stared at Jensen, his once bright eyes, sad and empty and Jensen bit back foolish tears, not wanting to see his new friend like this.

“Food,” Jensen spoke softly but clearly and he held out the bowl to the man. The man whimpered and turned his head away, a single tear trickling down his face.

“Good.” Jensen felt a little foolish but he lifted a piece of chicken out of the bowl and put it in his own mouth. He chewed at it, making noises of contentment and he was rewarded by the man turning back to look at him, eyes curious.

Jensen smiled and lifted another piece of chicken from the bowl. He held it out to the man who stared at him for an instant and then sniffed at the meat, a trickle of drool forming at the side of his mouth.

Jensen didn’t speak just held the meat closer and the man swallowed and then lunged forward, his teeth snapping at the chicken. He chewed at it and swallowed, then he looked at Jensen expectantly.

Jensen held out another piece and this time there was no hesitation. The man took the meat and ate it without question. Before long the bowl was empty and the man looked a little better, his cheeks slightly flushed, his eyes on Jensen’s face, trusting.

Jensen smiled then. He reached out and brushed the man’s hair from his face, feeling the man lean into his touch. The man turned a little and licked across Jensen’s wrist, cleaning between his fingers with soft, pink nibbles until all the meat grease was gone from his hand. Jensen let the man’s head rest in his palm until he looked calm and sleepy and then he edged closer, letting the man rest his head against Jensen’s chest, hearing something that sounded across between a moan and a purr come from the man’s throat.

***

Day after day Jensen came to the man and fed him. Letting the man take meat from his fingers, letting the man clean him, letting him sleep afterwards, taking warmth and comfort from Jensen’s body.

The man began to look better, he was putting on a little weight and, finally, the nurses took the IV’s from his hands, giving him some relief.

Jensen took it slowly and, finally, he decided the man was ready for stage one of his _‘training’_ process.

That evening he put the bowl on the man’s bed and reached into it, putting a piece of meat into his own mouth, chewing slowly, watching the man watch him. The man gave a little growl and leaned forward, waiting, but Jensen shook his head, he didn’t move, didn’t pick up the meat, just stayed still, waiting and hoping.

There was an expression on the man’s face that Jensen had not seen before, something more human, something almost like confusion. He put his head on one side, growling in frustration and Jensen put out his hand and lay his fingers on the man’s wrist, pushing the bowl a little closer.

The man whimpered then and, as Jensen held his breath, he lifted his hand and thrust his fingers, clumsily, into the bowl. Jensen felt his whole body tremble with excitement as the man thrust a piece of meat into his own mouth, chewing and drooling, his hand reaching in for more. He repeated the process until the bowl was empty and then he lay back, licking at his own fingers, until he thought he was clean.

Jensen wanted to shout, to cry, to dance around the room, but instead he reached out and patted the man on the head, tangling his fingers in soft chestnut hair, rubbing and petting until the man was almost senseless with pleasure.

Jensen sat closer to the man, wishing he could do more, wishing he could just set him free. He ached as he stared at the man’s face, realizing, almost for the first time, how young he really was.

He found it strange that he was also incredibly attractive. With his high-boned face and slanting cat-like eyes, his thick chestnut hair and long limbs, he was handsome by any human standard. Jensen shuddered as he pondered on what a waste this all was. This poor creature neither man nor animal, trapped in a world that didn’t understand him, Jensen his only friend.

As he sat, quiet and wondering, he felt something soft against his hair and he looked across, in amazement, to see that the man was stroking him, big, clumsy fingers rubbing through his short, spiky hair, digging into his scalp. Jensen gave a short, choked laugh and the man grunted back, fingers still working, attempting to be gentle, giving Jensen the same comfort that Jensen had given him time after time.

Jensen sighed and laid back, resting his head against the man’s hard chest, letting feelings of contentment and happiness wash over him.

Whatever happened to them, he mused, as he dozed on the man’s chest, safe and secure, they would at least see it out together.


	5. Chapter 5

The phone ringing, insistently, wakes Jensen from his slumber. He rolls over, brain sleep fuzzy and confused, his hand trying to find the light switch in a, still, unfamiliar room.

 

“Dr Ackles?” It is the voice of his waking nightmare, Dr Rosenbaum, smooth and condescending. “I need you here right now, there is someone with me who wants to discuss Jared.”

“Jared?” His head hurts and he rubs his eyes, sore through wearing his lenses all the time. “Who the hell is Jared?”

“Our patient! There isn’t time for this now, get dressed and get here as quickly as you can.”

“It is four in the morning.” Jensen protests, already reaching for his clothing, knowing that his protests will fall on deaf ears.

“No time to sleep on this job,” Dr Rosenbaum sounds self-important and Jensen bites his lip to stop from saying something he will regret. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stretches.

“I’m on my way,” is all he says.

***

When he arrives, just forty minutes later, Dr Rosenbaum shows him into a smart office, all leather chairs and immaculate décor. Jensen has never been here before and he stares at it, amazed that something like this exists in this place. He feels grubby, still half asleep, his glasses sliding down his nose.

“Ah, Dr Ackles.” Rosenbaum looks smooth and smart and he gestures that Jensen sit. It is only then that Jensen notices the other person in the room, a tall, elegant woman with greying hair swept back into a bun, her clothes immaculate, pearls white and smooth around her throat. Hazel eyes regard him for a moment and his breath catches as he realizes just who this is.

“I hear you are treating my grandson.” She is soft spoken, her accent unidentifiable.

Jensen stares at her, at a loss for what to say. In the end he just nods and she looks at him, her head on one side, a frighteningly familiar gesture that made his stomach clench.

“How is he?” She asked and, again, he was at a loss at what to say, he stared at her silent and she looked at him, eyes curious.

“He is making excellent progress,” Dr Rosenbaum interrupted with a smooth smile. “Dr Ackles is too modest.”

Jensen wanted to get up and punch Dr Rosenbaum in the mouth. He bit his lip, thrusting his hands into his coat pocket to stop from doing something he would regret.

“Dr Ackles...,” the woman’s voice wavered and he could see she was close to tears. “My son was killed in that crash and his wife also. My husband died two years ago from a heart attack, he never really got over the loss of our boy.” She swallowed. “Jared, that is what they wanted to call him, is all that is left.”

“He was lucky to survive,” Jensen spoke for the first time, his head full of thoughts, mind whirling. “You have to understand…,” he trailed off and Mrs Padalecki smiled at him sadly.

“I just want my grandson back,” she said.

“I’ll do my best.” Jensen couldn’t promise anything but he wanted to help, he wanted to give this poor woman what she wanted and, most of all, he wanted Jared to have something again.

The only problem was he didn’t know if that was possible and it hurt more than it possibly should have.

***

The man – Jared – thrust his fingers into the bowl and stuffed another piece of beef into his mouth. He chewed hungrily, his eyes on Jensen’s face. It was odd, Jensen mused, to think of the man as a person now, a person with a name, with a family, and with a history.

Jared finished his food and began to lick his fingers. Jensen bit his lip and leaned forward, ready for stage two of his experiment.

He pulled the mirror out his pocket and held it up in front of Jared’s face. He had read that this experiment didn’t always work with chimps, but Jared was human and he should be able to recognize himself as such.

Jared stared into the glass and made a strange noise in the back of his throat. He nudged at the reflection with his nose, startled as it hit the solid coldness, his eyes confused.

“That is you,” Jensen spoke softly, gently, his voice soothing. He put his hand on Jared’s wrist, keeping the mirror in front of his face. “It is you, we are the same.” He knew that Jared wouldn’t understand what he was saying, that Jared was confused and scared but he kept the mirror there and was rewarded by Jared suddenly sitting back, trying to tug his hand upwards.

Jensen gently released Jared’s left hand and watched, fascinated, as he reached up and touched his own face, trailing his fingers across his eyes, his nose, his cheeks. He grunted then, loud and insistent, and Jensen leaned forward, keeping his hand firmly on Jared’s restrained wrist, not wanting the man to be panicked. Jared looked up at Jensen, eyes bright and sharp and he moved his fingers from his own face to Jensen’s, tracing the same path, eyes, nose, cheek and jaw. Jensen kept very still, lowering the mirror so that he and Jared were almost nose to nose.

“The same,” Jensen said, again, softly. “We are the same.”

Jared gave a whimper and let his hand drop. His eyes were strangely sad and Jensen was horrified to see a single tear trickle down his cheek. Jared looked lost for a moment, his face almost expressive, more human than Jensen had ever seen and then it crumpled and his slow tears became hoarse sobs, grunts and whimpers.

Jensen leaned forward and took Jared into his arms, mindful of the restraints, he held Jared close, understanding, understanding what had just happened and hating himself for being the one to do this to him.

Jared had believed he was a wolf, he was one of a pack, he had family, an identity. Now he was _‘becoming_ something he didn’t understand, a creature he had never seen until recently. Jared had recognized himself, he had realized that he was not what he conceived himself to be. It was the first step, the first step to Jared’s humanity but it was a huge and painful step and Jensen hoped that Jared could overcome what had happened, that Jared could move on.

Finally, the sobs and whimpers stopped and Jensen felt hard, clumsy fingers in his hair. He lifted his head to see Jared, still buried in his chest, his free hand rubbing across Jensen’s head, trailing down his face and clutching at his neck.

“I’m sorry,” Jensen said, knowing Jared didn’t understand, but wanting to say it anyway. “I’m so sorry that I had to do this to you.”

Jared gave a grunt and Jensen felt the hand on his neck tighten. His stomach clenched and his heart thumped harder, a strange warmth filling him, affection coursing through his bones.

They were alone in this, he and Jared, two people torn from the life that was familiar to them and cast into something they did not want or understand.

Gradually Jared relaxed into his hold, his head falling limp on Jensen’s shoulder, worn out from everything. Jensen held him, his own eyes heavy and, without fear, he lay down beside Jared, still holding him, and slept.


	6. Chapter 6

“He needs to get out.” Jensen stalked into Rosenbaum’s office. “If you want him to progress, if you want him to get _‘better’_ you cannot keep him restrained like this.”

“He is still dangerous.” Rosenbaum sat down at his desk and steepled his fingers. “You may be safe with him but do you think I am going to risk my staff by letting him roam free? You seem to forget it is only a matter of months ago that he ripped a man’s throat out.”

“You want him to improve though? Want him to be able to integrate with society?” Jensen was aware of his hands shaking, his teeth gritted against the anger. “How can he do that if you keep him tied to that fucking bed? His muscles are wasting, he is looking sick. Granted he is eating, but he needs to get out to exercise, he needs to see something other than that room.”

“Are you prepared to take that risk?” Rosenbaum watched Jensen pace through slitted eyes. “Are you?”

“I am as much a prisoner here as he is.” Jensen came closer, green eyes bright with anger. “You and your goons won’t let me leave here. I haven’t seen my apartment, my friends or my family in months. He is my main priority now and – and I don’t like to see him like this. You don’t want him to be an animal but you are treating him like one.”

“I will let him free only if you take complete responsibility for him.” Rosenbaum stood up finally and walked over to the cabinet taking out several pieces of paper and flicking through them as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “He will be in your charge, and you will have to handle him. If you think you can, then we will consider freeing him.”

Jensen swallowed; he had been allowed to write to his family and tell them that he was working with the Government and wouldn’t be home for a while. He had been in brief contact with Ellen and given her the barest of details but, apart from that, he hadn’t seen or spoken to anyone else but Rosenbaum, Jeff and Jared for months. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t miss the company, that he didn’t miss his old life but there was something that prevented him from regretting being here and he was afraid to look too deeply, afraid of what exactly it was.

“I’ll do it but I want you to move me from that apartment into something bigger, with a garden and I want Jared with me at all times. Do you understand? I won’t have him in that bed, in that room a moment longer! If you want me to work with him – you let me do it in my own way, on my terms.”

“You have spirit, I’ll give you that.” Rosenbaum nodded and slammed the papers down on his desk. “Alright, agreed. Mrs Padalecki, is eager to have her grandson and I am eager to present him to her.”

“Thank you,” Jensen said, wondering what he had done and what he had let himself in for.

***

He had to hand it to Rosenbaum. The man had come up trumps as far as living quarters were concerned. He was in the older part of the clinic, in a large, spacious set of rooms that must have been living quarters when the building was an Asylum.

 

There was a small kitchen, one large bedroom and a lounge. There was also a garden, fenced off and surrounded by barbed wire and Jensen smiled wryly, realizing that neither of them were getting out of there.

He went to pick Jared up filled with immense trepidation. He had no idea how Jared would react to sudden freedom and he realized that, if anything did go wrong, they were both in big trouble. The nurses had been instructed to stop giving Jared any sort of sedation and they all looked scared and uneasy as Jensen arrived.

Jeff was waiting for him looking concerned and he embraced Jensen as if they were old friends, his eyes sad and tired, his face covered in grey flecked stubble.

“I’m glad you are doing this,” he said, finally. “But I question your sanity. He – he is still very much a wild creature, despite what Rosenbaum says or thinks.”

“He deserves better.” Jensen peered into the room and spotted Jared, still restrained for now, half sitting, half lying on the bed, his eyes wild and a little panicked. Jensen smiled at Jeff and moved so that he was in Jared’s line of sight. Jared instantly calmed and Jeff stared at him.

“He really does trust you,” he said, softly. “It is almost as if he…,” his voice trailed off and Jensen smiled stomach clenching. He knew what Jeff was trying to say and it scared him but it also made him feel warm inside, emotions he hadn’t felt in years coming to the surface, making him think things that he didn’t want to even consider or try to understand.

He took the keys from Jeff and walked into the room, slowly, keeping his eyes on Jared. The younger man gave a grunt when Jensen came nearer and he nuzzled at Jensen’s arm as he began to, methodically, undo the restraints. Finally Jared was free and Jensen sat on the edge of the bed, hand gentle on Jared’s wrist.

“He will need a chair,” he whispered to Jeff. “Bring one to the door and leave the rest to me.”

Jeff nodded, wordlessly and disappeared. Jensen watched, throat tight, as Jared rolled over and tried to get up from the bed, whimpers forming in his throat as he couldn’t get the strength to do so, teeth worrying his lower lip in frustration.

“Hush.” Jensen rubbed his hand through Jared’s hair. “You’ll feel better soon.” He knew that Jared couldn’t understand him but he always talked to him, hoping that he would begin to comprehend language, to understand simple instructions. Jared stilled and moved so that he could lay his head in Jensen’s lap, pushing into Jensen’s hand. Jensen kept stroking, strong, repetitive movements until Jared was calm again.

Jeff reappeared with the chair and Jensen nodded, slightly. Jeff looked apprehensive, afraid and Jensen shook his head, gesturing that Jeff bring the chair closer.

Jared saw Jeff and growled low, raising a little, his shoulders straining. Jensen shook his head, stroking Jared’s hair again. He touched Jared’s face, then his own and then he gestured to Jeff.

“He’s the same,” he said, softly, lifting Jared’s hand and letting it rub over Jeff’s bristly face. “We are all the same.”

Jared made a strange sound, half grunt, half whimper. He let his long fingers play over Jeff’s face and then he leaned forward and sniffed at Jeff’s neck and chest. Jeff stood tense but still and, finally, Jared gave a snort and licked a long stripe down Jeff’s throat, his hand swiping at Jeff’s hair, his eyes bright.

“He likes you.” Jensen allowed himself a smile. “He has accepted you into the pack, doesn’t see you as a threat.”

“Is that good?” Jeff allowed himself to touch Jared gently, a hand across his head. Jared butted against the touch, rolling into Jeff and Jeff bit back laughter, “I guess the answers yes.”

“Help me.” Jensen moved to Jared’s side and put his hands under Jared’s broad shoulders. “We need to get him in the chair – we need to get him out of here.”

Jeff nodded; he moved to the other side and put his hand under Jared’s arms. The younger man snorted a little but remained calm and, to Jensen’s surprise and relief, let them lower him into the wheelchair.

Sitting there, young and vulnerable, Jared looked more human than Jensen had ever seen. His head was tipped back, his hands resting still on his thighs, his long legs bent awkwardly as if he had never sat before. Jensen let his hand tangle in chestnut curls and he heard Jared make a soft sound, something between a growl and a purr, and his heart leaped higher in his chest, hope filling him.

***

Jared lay on his back in the sunshine, arms outstretched. Jensen lay next to him, watching the clouds. It was beautiful day and he just wanted to get Jared outdoors. He was too weak to do much but lie there but Jensen felt happier than he had in weeks, just seeing Jared respond to him, seeing him more relaxed, calmer, made him feel warm and, stupidly, fuzzy inside.

Jared rolled over and curled into a ball, scratching, idly, at his ear with his finger. He rolled again and butted into Jensen, his head resting on Jensen’s chest, soft whimpers emitting from his mouth, his whole body relaxed.

The first thing Jared had done was to rip off the flimsy hospital gown and Jensen was acutely aware his nakedness. He knew, eventually, that getting Jared into clothes would be a necessity but for now he just wanted to younger man to feel free and contented. He bit his lip as he rolled towards Jared, slinging an arm, casually, around Jared’s waist, feeling soft skin under his fingertips, the dirt and hair that had covered Jared before no longer between them.

Jared purred in his throat and wriggled closer. Jensen could feel Jared’s obvious arousal against his hip and he swallowed hard, trying to keep still and calm. Jensen ignored the gut response from his own body, knowing that it was purely instinctive and he tried, desperately, not to feel guilty about it.

Jensen was gay and had always known it. His parents had been accepting and supportive and he had been lucky enough to have several relationships, including five years with the love of his life, Tom. He had never really been one for casual sex but he hadn’t been beyond one night stands and would be lying if he didn’t admit he appreciated a beautiful body next to his.

Now there was such a body, finely sculptured, hard muscled and pliant. Jensen realized that Jared’s responses were completely instinctive, that he acted as an animal would act, that his body was responding to Jensen’s simply for that reason.

That didn’t stop Jensen wanting it back.

He bit his lip again and slowly, gently, extricated himself from Jared, rolling away and rising to his feet. Jared watched him, lazily, his expression blank but his eyes bright and alert. Jensen couldn’t help but smile and was rewarded as Jared’s face moved and he bared his teeth in a simulation of a grin, dimples deepening in his cheeks, mouth turning slightly upwards, the gesture touchingly human.

Jensen felt his stomach clench again and he rubbed his hand over his eyes, heart racing.

To fall in love now would be pointless, fruitless and painful. He had to tell himself that or go completely mad. Jared had affection for him but nothing more. He couldn’t understand, wouldn’t realize what Jensen’s _wants and needs_ were, hell they couldn’t even talk. It wasn’t as if they could go on dates or even get to know each other over an intimate meal.

He sighed and gazed up at the barbed wire fence, the only black thing on this bright, bright morning.

He was held captive now and there was nothing, nothing he could do to set himself free.

***

Jensen woke in an unfamiliar bed. It was still dark outside and he tried to get back to sleep, his body confused by the weight against his back.

Jared was curled, naked, against his spine. He was half asleep, his hardness pressing into Jensen’s back, his hips bucking slightly, little grunts of satisfaction coming from deep within his throat. Jensen lay tense, still, not wanting to move yet feeling that he had to. Jared was whimpering now and his hips were moving faster, pistoning in and out. Jensen knew that Jared was acting purely on animalistic instinct, that the pleasure he was feeling was naturalistic and that there was no real love in what he was doing. He couldn’t blame Jared for what was happening, Jared needed release and he seemed determined to get it. Jensen kept still as Jared grunted and came, hard, all over Jensen’s back.

There was a long, dark silence and then Jensen heard Jared bleat in satisfaction and Jared rolled over so that his back was against Jensen’s, soft snores coming from his mouth as he curled in on himself and slept on.

Jensen had no idea how Jared had gotten into the bed, he had gone to sleep curled up on it like a dog but had no doubt crept in during the night seeking warmth and affection. Jensen bit his lip and got out of bed quietly, creeping to the bathroom and letting himself inside, pulling off his stained t-shirt and standing in front of the mirror staring at himself.

His eyes were wide and his hair was sticking up. His cheeks were flushed pink and he knew, without looking down, that he was terrifically aroused. He put his hand down his sweatpants and took his own erection in hand, pulling frantically, biting on his fist to hold back his cries. Finally he came and he leaned back against the sink in relief, the tension draining out of him, the guilt creeping quickly after.

He shouldn’t want this, he shouldn’t need this but, God help him, he did.

He washed his hands, cleaned his teeth and put on a fresh t-shirt, then he went into the lounge and curled up on the sofa, trying to sleep, thinking, desperately, of nothing.

It was going to be a long night.


	7. Chapter 7

Jensen decided that, if he was going to achieve anything, he would have to get Jared into clothing. 

Jared, of course, had no modesty. He was happiest naked and dirty, rolling about in the garden, loping about on all fours, the largest house pet that Jensen had ever seen.

It was hard; harder than he imagined. Apart from a daily report to Rosenbaum and a chat with Jeff, he was pretty much on his own.

In some ways that was okay, that was cool. The living quarters were nice, homely. He had a TV (which he very rarely watched), plenty of good food, fresh air on tap and an interesting companion.

In other ways it was painful. He was becoming embroiled with Jared, closer to him than he ever intended to be. He was only human after all and, of course, he was aware of Jared’s obvious attraction, his long limbs, his high-boned face, his long chestnut hair. He sometimes wished that Jared was ‘human’ and that they could have met in other circumstances. He wished that they could talk, that he could really know what was going on in Jared’s head but all of that was impossible.

The worse thing was is that he knew that Jared would never be _‘normal’_ , never be the same as Jensen, never be the man that everyone hoped and wanted him to be. It was heartbreaking to think too deep at times, it hurt to think of Jared years down the line, trapped somewhere he didn’t recognize, growing old in this prison they had created for him, lost and confused.

For now, though, Jared seemed to be happy. He loved snuggling up to Jensen at nights, naked and hard, always wanting to rut. He loved loping around the garden, digging in the dirt, generally rolling about. Jensen dreaded the former and enjoyed the latter. He could pretend he didn’t want Jared but he couldn’t hide from the fact that his feelings were confused and wrong. He knew he had to work harder on _‘humanizing’_ Jared and figured that dressing would be the least stressful thing he could do.

He figured wrong.

***

For one thing it was hard to get Jared to stand on two feet. He was used to moving on all fours and protested, verbally, and with nips and scratches, when Jensen tried to get him upright. Jared was a big man, well over 6ft when standing, inches taller than Jensen himself and growing stronger with every day that passed. As much as he seemed to _‘like’_ and respond to Jensen, he was willful and feral and he fought, literally, tooth and nail.

Jensen discovered, to his amazement, that he had limitless patience when it came to Jared. He spent hours getting Jared to his feet, trying to ignore his nudity, aware that he had his hands on naked flesh day after day.

He might have had patience but he was almost constantly aroused and horny and he took endless cold showers. He wanted, desperately, to get Jared into clothes and he prayed, to whoever was listening, that Jared would get up on his feet soon.

He was sitting in the garden, eyes half-open, face turned upwards. He heard a grunt and sat up, lids rising reluctantly.

 

Jared was standing, actually standing, right in front of him. He clenched his teeth in, what Jensen had learned, was Jared’s version of a grin and staggered forward, grunting proudly, waiting for some kind of response.

“Hey.” Jensen was aware of his voice wavering. “Good job, real good job.” He stood up and ran his hand through Jared’s hair, petting and rubbing him, the kind of praise that Jared understood. “You – you are walking.”

Jared made a sound in the back of his throat. He staggered a couple of more steps and then dropped to his knees, stretching out, face forward on the soft grass. He stretched and sighed and Jensen smiled fondly at him, wishing that he didn’t feel the way he felt, wishing that the word _‘love’_ wasn’t constantly running through his head.

***

Two days and six shredded shirts later, Jensen was beginning to feel real frustration. He wanted to ring Rosenbaum and scream that this would never work; he wanted to take Jared and set him free back in the woods, to let him go home.

Thing was, he just couldn’t bear to lose him.

Jared was sitting, up on his haunches, on the bed. He was naked but for, yet another, shredded shirt which hung off his shoulders. He was biting at the cotton now, his white teeth pulling fiercely at the cloth.

“Jared,” Jensen kept his voice even, trying to be calm, gentle. “It is okay.” He gestured to his own shirt. “Like me, we are the same.” He rubbed his hand down Jared’s face, risking a nip. “We are the same.”

Jared grunted. He let his fingers trail across Jensen’s cheek, then down along his jaw, across his neck and onto his shoulders. His nails scratched lightly at Jensen’s shirt and his finger played with the buttons. Jensen kept still, feeling Jared lean forward and nuzzle at his neck, his breath hot against Jensen’s jugular.

Jensen tensed, feeling himself growing, uncomfortably, hard. He bit his lip as Jared nuzzled, wanting only to get away but move closer at the same time.

Finally, Jared drew back. He let Jensen strip him of the old ripped shirt and put a new one on him. This time he didn’t flinch or try to tear it off, he simply pawed at it and then pawed at Jensen, eyes bright on Jensen’s face.

“Yeah,” Jensen gulped. “The same.”

Jared cocked his head on one side and gritted his teeth in a semblance of a smile. Jensen smiled back then, breathing a sigh of relief, wondering how long it would take him to get Jared into jeans.

***

“He looks almost – he looks good.” Jeff perched, somewhat uneasily, on Jensen’s kitchen chair. Jensen put the coffee pot on the stove and stared out of the window. Jared was lying in the sunshine but, this time; he was wearing a black t-shirt and combat shorts. His feet were bare and his face was dirty but he looked contented, his eyes closed as he dozed.

“Yeah – almost human.” Jensen poured out the coffee, strong and black. “You have no idea how long it took me to get him into clothes.”

“You are doing well.” Jeff patted Jensen on the shoulder. “It can’t be easy.”

“It isn’t.” Jensen found himself staring out of the window again, his eyes on Jared, unable to tear his gaze away. “He is pretty willful.”

“Rosenbaum is coming over.” Jeff looked ashamed, “I-I wanted to warn you.”

“When?”

“Next couple of days. He is bringing Mrs Padalecki, he won’t listen to reason.”

“He’s not ready.”

“I know.” Jeff watched Jensen watching Jared. “You – Jensen, what do you feel?”

“Feel?”

“For Jared?”

Jensen looked at Jeff, a nerve in his cheek twitching. He took a deep breath, gnawing at the inside of his cheek, his eyes burning.

“H-he is the center of everything at the moment.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“I know but it is the only one you are going to get.”

“You love him.” Jeff pushed the coffee away and looked at Jensen, compassion in his eyes.

Jensen felt his face grow hot and the tears that had been threatening for days began to trickle, slowly down his cheeks. Jeff leaned forward and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I know you don’t think I do but I understand Jensen, I really understand,” he said and looked out to where Jared was beginning to stir, bright eyes opening and, instantly, searching for Jensen. “He seems to feel the same.”

Jensen gave a watery smile, rubbing at his face.

“I feel a fool,” he said voice hoarse. “How can I even tell him – h-he doesn’t understand?”

“He understands some things you say, obviously.” Jeff smiled, “Why not that?”

“I fucking hate Rosenbaum.” Jensen stood up, opening the door and stepping out into the bright daylight. Jared saw him instantly and loped over, half on his feet, half on all fours, his arms going around Jensen’s waist, bowling him over. Jeff watched, his emotions whirling.

Later, they sat around the table. Jeff was fascinated to see Jared eat out of his bowl, perched at the table awkwardly, fingers smeared with grease. Jared bleated and thrust some of his meat at Jeff, sniffing at Jeff’s fingers as he took it.

“He really likes you,” Jensen sounded amused. “He doesn’t let just anyone eat his food.”

Jared grunted and pushed his bowl away, slipping off his stool and nudging against Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen rubbed at Jared’s head, affection making him feel warm inside, Jeff’s eyes on him the whole time.

Jensen showed Jeff out and thanked him for the advanced warning. He felt sick at the thought of Rosenbaum coming here, disturbing their lives and he wished that they could both escape from him, go away somewhere where they might be left in peace.

When he came back inside Jared pounced on him, bowling him over and Jensen’s back hit the floor, the breath knocked out of him.

“Hey.” Jensen rolled over and pulled Jared down so that they were lying face to face. “Hey.”

Jared growled in the back of his throat and nudged his head against Jensen’s neck. Jensen felt warmth flooding through him and he put his hands both side of Jared’s head and lifted it so that they were able to look into each others eyes. He put his finger on Jared’s lower lip and, gently, pulled it down, then as slowly and carefully as possible, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against Jared’s.

Of all the things he had taught Jared he had never imagined that this would be one of them. Jared’s mouth was still for a moment, Jared making little sounds that went straight to Jensen’s groin. Jensen knew he was risking a lot but he thrust his tongue into Jared’s mouth, encouraging him and hoping he did not get it bitten off. Jared went stiff for a moment and then his own tongue tangled with Jensen’s, an honest to God whine echoing from his throat.

Jensen deepened the kiss, his hand reaching into Jared’s shorts and wrapping around his erect cock. Jared gave a squeak and began to thrust into Jensen’s hand but Jensen shushed and slowed him, keeping the kiss slow and steady, his fingers moving gently.

He took Jared’s hand and let it rest on his own arousal. He knew he should feel guilty for this but he was tired, tired of wanting, tired of holding back. Jared was all he had; he was all Jared had, why shouldn’t they get some pleasure, why shouldn’t they have some happiness.

Jeff had said that Jared was a quick learner and, for that, Jensen was grateful. Jared’s fingers tightened around Jensen’s own cock, moving slow and sure. The kiss got deeper and more passionate and Jensen heard Jared grunt, felt him thrust once, twice and then felt Jared come, hard and wet over his fingers. It was enough for Jensen and he thrust his way to his own release, his breath in his throat, his lips fastened to Jared’s as if they would never, ever be free.

“I love you.” He held Jared against him, knowing the words meant nothing to Jared but wanting to say them all the same. “I love you and I’m going to protect you. Whatever happens, you are safe with me.”

Jared made a noise that sounded like a purr and snuggled closer, he held Jensen against him, arms around Jensen’s waist and Jensen felt so warm, so happy that he wished he could freeze time and stay like that forever.

He was in too deep now to ever break free.


	8. Chapter 8

Jensen wakes with a start; his head feels fuzzy and he can hear rain beating down softly on the roof of the room.

He can feel something warm against his back and he realizes that Jared is in bed with him, naked and snuggling up against his back, his head nuzzled against Jensen’s neck.

Jensen sighs and wishes he could stay here forever warm and protected like this. He knows that this is an impossibility though and he feels angry that their small pocket of happiness is going to be shattered by Rosenbaum and his demands.

Jared snuffles and Jensen feels him come even closer, his hardness poking into Jensen’s back. Jensen rolls over pulling Jared into his arms and hugging him fiercely. Jared’s eyes shoot open and he stares at Jensen through long lashes, his eyes bright, stubble beginning to form on his chin, hair already hanging into his face.

“Hey,” Jensen always speaks softly, sometimes just to hear the sound of his voice, because he knows Jared cannot understand him, just responds to tone, to stimulus. “Hey.”

Jared bares his teeth and dimples form. He is learning, slow and sure. His expressions are becoming more human, his movements less feral, awkward but recognizable. Jensen realizes that there is a long, long way to go but with time and infinite patience, Jared will learn life’s basics. Thing is he doesn’t have time and Rosenbaum doesn’t have patience and he hates him, hates him for what he is doing to them both.

Jensen gets out of bed and runs a bath. He can hear Jared snuffling behind him, hear him roll out of bed and lope towards the bathroom. Jensen turns and gives him a stern look and Jared cocks his head on one side, teeth bared, and staggers to his feet. He comes to Jensen slowly and wobbly, like a new born, but he gets there and Jensen pulls him into his arms and kisses him.

Jared kisses back, sloppy and messy, but the intention is there. He follows Jensen’s simple instructions and climbs into the bath, water going everywhere, as Jared rolls about, dipping under the water and coming up, shaking his hair and sprinkling Jensen with droplets, soaking him through.

Jensen loves these times. He wishes life could always be so simple, so uncomplicated. Jared huffs and growls as Jensen soaps his hair, he tries to nip Jensen’s fingers as he shaves him but, ultimately, he lets Jensen do these things for him. He trusts Jensen and Jensen revels in that trust.

It takes almost an hour to towel Jared down, to comb through his hair and to get him into clothing. Jared certainly won’t wear underwear and Jensen figures he has done well to get him into a t-shirt and shorts. When he finished it was still pouring down outside and it is obvious they can’t go out in the garden today. Jared won’t care but Jensen is not the outdoors type and he figures that today is as good a day as any to go with the next phase of his _‘training’_ program.

They sit on the couch and it is awkward. Jared doesn’t do _still_ very well. He fidgets, little growls and whimpers telling Jensen just how he feels. He rolls off the couch onto the floor; he paws at Jensen, wanting to play, wanting to rut. Jensen bites his lip, torn between irritation and amusement and he gets out the cards and pats the couch.

Finally Jared comes. He sits opposite Jensen, his legs curled up under him, his head on one side. Jensen gets out the cards and swallows. He knows it is going to be a long day but if he can achieve anything, anything at all he will be happy.

***

He doesn’t know if he can teach Jared to talk.

At first he toyed with the idea of sign language but he isn’t an expert and he realizes that it would be a learning curve for them both and maybe a little too much. So he has taken it to its most basic level, looking at Jared as if he were a small child, starting with _‘A for apple'_ and moving on from there.

It isn’t a very good start. Jared bites and shreds the first few cards. He grunts and snorts, wanting to be let out. Jensen watches Jared as he gambles about in the rain getting dirty and wet. Jared looks so happy and Jensen, once again, feels a pang of sadness, of regret.

There is a small part of Jensen that doesn’t want to lose Jared’s _‘wild’_ side. It is what he is; it is what he should be. Jared is changing, sure, but he will never be totally _‘human’_ , he is a fully grown male who spent his life in a pack. He will never be able to forget that, it is in his blood.

Jensen smiles, wryly, to himself. Jared is not going to be able to sit at Mrs Padalecki’s table and take afternoon tea. He is not going to read Shakespeare and comment on the weather. The best they can hope for is that Jared learns to dress, feed and take care of himself. That Jared learns to go to the bathroom on his own and is, maybe, able to form the basic of words. Jared will always be different but Jensen doesn’t care, that is the reason he is falling in love with Jared and that is the reason he will protect Jared with his life.

Finally, Jensen gets Jared to sit still and look at the cards. Jared watches Jensen, head on one side, as Jensen holds up the pictures of apples, balls and cats, trying to get Jared to respond.

Jared can make sounds but they are mostly grunts, whimpers and purrs. Recently, he has made noises that have sounded more human. Moans and groans, little sobs when he was unhappy, sighs when he was content. Jensen was aware that Jared was mimicking him and he had hoped that Jared might form words in the same way.

Some hope!

Two hours later and Jensen had a headache. Jared was dozing, head on his lap, still unable to understand what Jensen wanted from him. It had been a fairly big task but Jensen had wanted it to succeed, he had wanted to hear Jared speak to him, wanted to hear Jared’s voice.

He stroked his fingers through soft, chestnut curls, a lump in his throat. He watched the rain falling and wondered what was going to happen to him, to Jared, to them both. Rosenbaum wasn’t going to wait forever; Rosenbaum was more than capable of taking Jared away and giving him over to someone else. Jensen couldn’t bare that to happen, couldn’t let that happen, not to him and not to Jared. They were a _‘pack’_ now, a unit and Jensen wasn’t going to let Jared’s world get ripped away from him again, it wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair.

Jared made a clicking sound in the back of his throat and Jensen tightened his grip in Jared’s hair. Jared’s eyes opened and he rolled over, his eyes on Jensen’s, a small, teeth baring, grin on his face. He nuzzled into Jensen’s stomach, growling and nipping at Jensen’s skin. Jensen knew what Jared wanted and, in that moment, decided to give it to him.

It was all they had right now.

***

Jensen stripped off his clothing as quickly as he could. He was naked, exposed, his cock standing out hard from his body. He watched as Jared ripped off his own clothing, t-shirt and shorts flying through the air in Jared’s eagerness.

Jensen led them over to the bed. Jared walked beside him, slow and a little wobbly, his own erection hard and leaking. He let Jensen sit him down on the soft mattress and gave a little whimper as Jensen sat down beside him.

It was Jared that initiated the kiss; it was messy and wet, all tongue and teeth but it meant something and Jensen swallowed hard, pulling Jared closer, deepening the kiss and pressing Jared back onto the bed.  
Jared growled but he let himself be manipulated. Jensen knew what Jared wanted but they had to take it slowly. More than anything he wanted this to be good for Jared, he wanted Jared to know how tender, how sweet lovemaking could be. This was not just about sex, it was about Jared and it was about Jensen and they had to do it right.

Jensen reached into the draw, careful not to disturb or upset Jared. He smothered his fingers with lube, pushing them gently but firmly into Jared’s hole, feeling Jared clench around him, hearing Jared moan, his hips bucking into Jensen’s hand, his teeth making his lower lip bloody. Jensen smiled to himself as he found the spot he had been searching for. Jared hissed, his eyes flying open and he stared at Jensen, all flushed cheeks and dark pupils. Jensen pressed kiss after kiss onto Jared’s mouth, his hair, his face. Jared moaned and groaned and he whimpered when Jensen pulled his fingers away, trying to pull Jensen back.

Jensen entered Jared slowly. He was sure that Jared had never done this before, sure that, if he had had a mate that their coupling would have been savage and instinctive. Jensen didn’t know what had happened to Jared in the wild and he didn’t want to know. Today it was all about the moment and he felt such great warmth and tenderness that he didn’t know how to express it, all he knew is that what he was feeling now was something he had never, ever felt before, not even with Tom.

Jared lifted his head up and bit hard on Jensen’s neck. Jensen groaned the pain and stinging sensation only adding to his arousal. He was thrusting harder now, unable to hold back, Jared beneath him clutching hard with his fingers, biting down with his teeth. Jensen felt Jared tense and then he felt something wet and warm spurt against his stomach and Jared was coming, biting into Jensen again, his eyes closed, his hands so tight on Jensen’s skin he was sure that Jared would leave bruises.

His own orgasm hit him hard and he could barely hold himself up. He collapsed on top of Jared, panting and sweating, his arms around Jared’s waist, their bodies pressed together, sticky and hot.

Jared made a sound that was almost a sigh and Jensen pulled him, impossibly, closer. He felt tired now and so relaxed he could barely keep his eyes open. He lay his head on Jared’s shoulder and let his heavy lids fall closed. His sleep was deep and dreamless and, for a moment, he and Jared were inseparable, safe from the world.


	9. Chapter 9

He knows, as soon as he answers the phone, who it is going to be.

Jared stirs beside him, whimpering in the back of his throat. He stretches all long limbs and nuzzles against Jensen’s neck. Jensen shushes him with gentle hands, smoothing his fingers through messy hair. It is a warm, sunny day and Jensen wanted to spend it in the garden, wanted to see Jared out in the open again, wanted to spend more precious time together.

This phone call, Rosenbaum’s voice, smooth, smug, controlling has put an end to that and Jensen wishes that he would just go away.

“I want to bring Mrs Padalecki to see her grandson.” Rosenbaum isn’t asking, Jensen is well aware of that. “How are things?”

“Fine, we are making progress.” Jensen doesn’t lie, just makes the truth more palatable.

“Is he talking?”

Jensen bites his lip. Beside him Jared grunts and ruts, lazily, into Jensen’s thigh. He sighs, “No, not yet. These things take time.”

“Three months, Jensen.” Rosenbaum sounds pissed and he shakes his head, has it really been that long? “Three months is enough time.”

“Not nearly enough.” Jensen gently extracts Jared from his thigh and rolls the younger man over. Jared growls and nips at his fingers, playfully. Jensen swallows, love surging through him like an uncontrollable tide.

“We should maybe think about handing him over to someone else.” Rosenbaum’s voice hits where it hurts, where he meant it to be. Jensen grits his teeth, pain a living thing surging through him. He feels his face flush with anger.

“Don’t,” he says. “H-he trusts me, it might be dangerous with anyone else.”

“Trusts you?” Rosenbaum sounds conceited, disgusted. “Is that what they are calling it now?”

Jensen feels his face flush with heat and he feels embarrassed, exposed, as if Rosenbaum can see them, as if he were here rather than on the other end of the phone.

“I suggest you watch your tone,” he says, finally and Rosenbaum sighs.

“Dr Ackles, you know how much is at stake here. Can you just get him to look a little human for his grandma? The old lady is desperate and she needs to see him – her own flesh and blood.”

“Next Saturday.” Jensen knows that this is being forced upon him but he also knows that if he doesn’t say yes then the consequences for him and for Jared are going to be very, very bad. He puts the phone down finally and turns to the man beside him.

Jared sits up on his haunches. His head is cocked to one side and he makes a little squeaky noise and reaches out a clumsy hand, stroking it across Jensen’s jaw, his eyes alert and curious.

“We can do this,” Jensen says but he doesn’t honestly believe it. “We have to do this.”

Jared stares at him, mouth open, hands still moving along Jensen’s face. He leans in and drops a messy kiss on Jensen’s lips. Jensen kisses back, his body lighting up as it has come to do so every time Jared touches him. He moves into Jared’s touch and lets the younger man kiss and stroke him, taking his pleasure whilst he can, the fear and worry caused by Rosenbaum’s call put on the back burner for now, Jared his one concern, the center of his life, the only thing he cares for.

****

He pours out the coffee and puts a cup in front of Jared and one in front of himself. There is a plate of cakes on the table that Jared is eyeing with some suspicion and Jensen feels hysterical laughter in his throat, feeling like a charm school mistress with an unruly pupil.

Jensen lifts the cup to his lips and sips at the coffee. Jared watches, fidgeting, awkwardly, on the chair. He growls and reaches out for the cakes, long fingers thrusting forward eagerly. Jensen shakes his head and slaps Jared’s fingers lightly. Jared’s expression is one that Jensen has never seen before, the most human he has ever seen on Jared’s face, surprise.

Jensen bites his lip to stop from laughing out loud. He gestures to the coffee cup and Jared grunts, fingers tangling in the handle and nearly tipping the hot liquid all over him. Jensen sighs.

“I’m sorry,” he says and guesses he is always apologizing. “I really am, but this – this is for both of us . . . if we can do this, then they might leave us alone.”

Jared stares at him, uncomprehending. He understands simple words now; yes, no, food, bed, but he doesn’t really respond to long sentences. As much as Jensen loves Jared, has come to love Jared, he never really knows what is going through Jared’s head. Sometimes, he wonders if Jared is just like a very intelligent dog, responding to commands, to food, to warmth. Sometimes, however, he sees something else in Jared’s tip-tilted eyes, something warm, something sweet, something human. He wondered, at first, if he was imagining it but he has seen it too often for it to be a fluke. It makes him feel strange inside, makes his heart thump faster. He wasn’t sure at first but now he is pretty positive.

He thinks it is love.

He tries to hold on to that, now as he teaches Jared basic manners. He wants Saturday to go well, he needs it to. If they take Jared away from him then he cannot imagine how they will survive. Jared needs Jensen, he thinks of Jensen as his pack, his family, his mate now. But, the irony is, Jensen needs Jared just as much, he cannot imagine his life without Jared in it and he doesn’t want to try.

He watches as Jared lifts the cup, cautiously, to his lips. He gulps at the coffee, snarling as the heat burns his tongue and drooling brown liquid down his t-shirt. Jensen nods his approval and Jared continues to drink. When he has finished Jensen hands Jared a cake. Jared looks at him for a long moment, considering and then, to Jensen’s astonishment, instead of shoving the whole cake into his mouth, he takes a slow, easy bite and chews just as Jensen did, savoring the sweet, sticky taste. Jensen wants to kiss Jared but just watches, his heart in his mouth.

“Thank you,” he says, finally, and Jared grunts, his fingers reaching out and rubbing into Jensen’s hair, making it sticky with cake crumbs and coffee. It doesn’t matter though, they can do this and the thought makes Jensen hopeful, his whole being willing it to be successful.

****

Saturday dawns and, despite his earlier confidence, Jensen is terrified. He washes and shaves and then does the same for Jared.

The younger man seems to know that something is happening, he is quiet and subdued, not fidgeting or misbehaving as Jensen washes and brushes his hair, letting Jensen shave him without nips, getting dressed in the shirt and pressed jeans that Jensen has left for him.

Jensen hears voices and goes to the door. He sees Rosenbaum, suited and booted, expression bland, Jeff, nervous and worried looking and Mrs Padalecki, who looks a little confused, her eyes on the accommodation, possibly wondering why her grandson is confined like this.

“Jensen.” Jeff enters first and Jensen watches as Jared sniffs the air, recognizing Jeff and bounding to greet him, throwing his arms around the older man and rubbing his face into his neck. “Jared!” Jeff smiles, despite himself. “Looking good.”

Rosenbaum follows. Jared immediately tenses and Jensen puts a hand on his wrist, holding him steady. Jared growls in the back of his throat, leaning into Jensen protectively and Jensen pets him gently.

“It is okay.” He moves forward and takes Rosenbaum’s extended hand. “It is okay, Jared.”

Jared stumbles over to Rosenbaum and looks at him, eyes curious. He doesn’t touch him and for that Jensen is grateful, he looks over at Jeff who nods reassuringly and he feels as if they have jumped the first fence.

Mrs Padalecki stares at Jared in amazement. He does look good in his pressed shirt and jeans, feet, as ever, bare; hair brushed but still a little wild. He looks like an unruly teenager but very human and Jensen feels so proud of him.

Jared sniffs at Mrs Padalecki’s outstretched hand and she looks alarmed. Rosenbaum reassures her, smarmy and cold and he gestures that they all sit. Jeff makes coffee and gets out the sandwiches and cake and Jensen wants to laugh, wondering at how oddly domestic the scene really is.

Jeff talks a lot, nervous and antsy, telling Jensen about how well his team is doing, about what color he is going to decorate his house, about how he is going to get a dog. Rosenbaum sits silently, watching Jared try not to fidget on his chair, watching him sip, clumsily, at his coffee, watching him nibble carefully on the sandwich.

“You have done a good job.” Mrs Padalecki touches Jensen’s wrist, her eyes kind. “He – he is looking so well.”

Jensen smiles. “Thank you,” he says; genuinely liking her. “H-he is…,” he trails off, not really knowing what to say. Rosenbaum stares at him, eyes bright and he feels hot and awkward, wishing that they would just go, just quit now while they were ahead.

“Well,” Rosenbaum says, finally, finishing his tea. “I think we have seen enough. Dr Ackles, you have done an excellent job but I am going to be taking it from here.”

“What?” Jensen and Jeff speak in unison, alarm clear on Jeff’s features.

“I intend to let Mrs Padalecki take her grandson back home now,” Rosenbaum says. “I have a good team behind me and they will be with Mrs Padalecki 24 hours a day to make sure that all of Jared’s _‘training’_ is covered.”

“You can’t, he isn’t ready. Please.” Jensen gulps down panic. “This is stupid. Jeff, tell him this is foolish.”

“I understand you have become attached to Jared.” Rosenbaum gestures to the younger man who is watching, confused, as the conversation whirls on around him. “And we are eternally grateful for your input but it is time for you to return to your job, amply rewarded of course, and for us to look after Jared now. It is for the best.”

Jensen wants to scream and shout but he doesn’t want to disturb or upset Jared. He looks at Mrs Padalecki in dumb appeal but the older woman just looks confused, upset and, yet, hopeful. He turns his gaze to Jared who is beginning to look a little spooked and he reaches out a reassuring hand.

“Leave him.” Rosenbaum’s voice is cold but firm and he bats Jensen’s hand away. “He is in our charge now, we can take it from here.” He turns and reaches out for Jared, a hand gripping firmly around his bicep. “Now young man,” he says, in a soft, condescending tone. “Let’s get you home.”

It all happens in slow motion. Jared snarls, panic clear in his eyes now, and pulls away from Rosenbaum, his eyes seeking Jensen. Rosenbaum shakes his head,

“Jared,” he says, as if that one word will cure it all and Jared growls, thrusting Rosenbaum aside and loping towards Jensen, hands outstretched.

Rosenbaum loses his cool, shouts, “No!” And pushes Jensen back. Jensen staggers back, winded, a surprised cry torn from his lips and Jared bares his teeth, his eyes wild suddenly and he pounces, knocking Rosenbaum to the ground.

Mrs Padalecki is screaming. Rosenbaum chokes and struggles but it is too late. Jared’s nails and teeth are no longer sharp but they are still effective. Jensen staggers forward and pulls at Jared, pulls with all his strength. Jared growls and snarls still bent over Rosenbaum’s prone form. The tussle seems to last forever and then, to Jensen’s horror, Rosenbaum’s cries stop and there is nothing but silence.

Jared reels back and Jensen takes him, gingerly, into his arms. Mrs Padalecki is still screaming and Jeff looks sick. Jensen strokes Jared’s hair, tears flowing freely down his cheeks, whispering words of comfort into Jared’s ear, feeling Jared shaking against him, feeling the warmth of blood seeping into his t-shirt.

It isn’t Jared’s blood.

Rosenbaum’s throat is torn, slit open, his blood already congealing. His face still wears an expression of panicked surprise and his eyes are glassy. Jensen feels as if he is in a nightmare from which there will be no waking.

And still Jared shakes in his arms.


	10. Chapter 10

He is aware of Jeff moving about the room but it is only a vague awareness.

His legs feel shaky and it is only Jared, still, clutched tightly in his arms that is keeping him grounded.

Jeff is nearby; he can hear his panicked breathing. He feels something cold pressed into his hand and he finally lifts his head.

“I have a cabin.” Jeff doesn’t appear to be making any sense but Jensen listens anyway. “Out in the forest, miles from anywhere. No-one knows about it but me. It is my escape from this madness, I go there at weekends to chill.” He pushes the object further into Jensen’s palm and Jensen realizes that it is a set of keys. “Take my truck, take Jared and go. I’ll clear up here.”

“They won’t let us leave.” Jensen is aware that Jared is still whimpering and shaking, that Mrs Padalecki has stopped screaming and is sobbing softly, that Rosenbaum’s body is still on the rug, bloody and accusing.

“Until the alarm is sounded they won’t even know that anything is amiss.” Jeff holds his shoulder and gives it a gentle shake. “You need to take him out of here. You need to go, now, Jensen!” He looks at Jared, eyes full of compassion. “They will – if you don’t take him now – they are gonna kill him, you know that.”

“He was protecting me.” Jensen swallows hard. He thrusts the keys into his pocket and lets Jared go. The younger man grunts and falls to his knees, legs giving way. Jensen knows the signs of shock when he sees them and he realizes that, in _‘taming’_ Jared, he has made him much more vulnerable.

“I know but they won’t see it like that.” Jeff stares over at Mrs Padalecki. “Whatever I say – whatever she decides to say, they will see it as murder. He will be institutionalized for the rest of his life and that WILL kill him,” Jeff breathes out. “I don’t know what we are gonna do eventually, but you need to go now, Jensen! You need to go now.”

Jensen nods. He spends a few minutes stuffing clothes and possessions into a bag, then he gets Jared, wraps a coat around his bloody t-shirt and gets him settled in Jeff’s truck.

“The directions are in the glove compartment,” Jeff says and Jensen nods. He feels sore all over, achy as if he is coming down with a fever or worse. Jared is silent and subdued, his head down, long hair covering his face. Jeff leans in and pats Jared’s head, then he gives Jensen a long look and nods, his eyes filling with tears.

“Take care,” he says and Jensen swallows, his own eyes blurry.

“You too,” he answers and pulls the truck out of the drive and pulls away.

***

Jeff wasn’t kidding when he said his place was deep in the forest.

The cabin is hidden by thick foliage of trees, miles away from civilization. It is small and basic with a well-stocked kitchen, a tiny sitting room consisting of a couch and a TV, a bathroom and a bedroom. Jensen throws his bag down on the bed and runs a bath.

He helps Jared out of his bloody t-shirt, pulling it off over his head. He throws it into the garbage and then pulls down his jeans and boxers and leads him into the bathroom. Jared doesn’t protest, doesn’t make a sound, just goes with Jensen, sits in the bath obediently, let’s himself be washed and cleaned, his eyes blank and his face without expression.

All Jensen can see from the window is trees and he realizes that this is the sort of environment that Jared was brought up in. He considers, for a moment, letting Jared free, letting him lose himself in the forest, maybe find his pack again. He wonders if it would be the best thing, giving Jared back his freedom. His throat burns as he thinks about it and he turns to look at Jared sitting still and silent on the bed.

Jared’s head is bowed and his hands hang loose between his thighs, an achingly human gesture. He looks so young and so very defenseless and Jensen hates himself for what he has done. He cannot let Jared go now, he doesn’t think that Jared could survive in the wild anymore. He bites his lip hard and tries to stem the tears that have threatened for hours.

He doesn’t know what they are going to do and he is terrified.

“So-rr-y.”

For a moment he thinks he is going mad. He hears the voice but doesn’t comprehend where it is coming from. Then he raises his eyes again and sees Jared, hunched forward and awkward and he knows.

Jensen gulps, unable to hold back the tears a moment longer. Jared whimpers then and opens his arms wide. Jensen goes into them without hesitation, wrapping his own arms around Jared’s waist and clinging on, his mouth against Jared’s neck.

“So-rr-y,” Jared says again and, of course, it makes sense that this is the first word Jared has ever said. He had heard it enough from Jensen’s own lips, heard Jensen’s apologies. What makes Jensen hurt more is that Jared actually understands the meaning of the word, he knows what has happened, he is aware of what he has done wrong. Jensen feels the pain surge up and threaten to overwhelm him and he pushes his head further into Jared’s shoulder and holds on.

***

The next few days are strangely relaxing. Jensen wakes up to see the sun glittering through the trees, hears the cries of the animals deep within the forest, can smell the fresh tang of earth, leaves and clean air.

Jared loves the outside. He lopes around as he did when they were alone before. He lies on the ground, sniffs the trees, rolls around in the dirt. Jensen sits on the wooden steps that lead up to the cabin and watches him, sadness warring with love, the need to have Jared close fighting with the need to let Jared go.

When they are inside Jared tries, tries hard for Jensen’s sake. He sits at the table and eats, he attempts to dress himself, he lets himself be washed and shaved. He sits for, what seems like, hours and lets Jensen hold up the cards for him, lets Jensen pretend that there is still a point to all this. After the initial ‘Sorry’, Jared doesn’t speak again, reverts back to his usual communication of grunts, whimpers and snorts. Jensen feels as if he is in limbo, he doesn’t know how this story is going to end but he knows that he wants to be with Jared regardless.

At night Jared crawls into his bed and kisses him hard and messy. Jared’s hands wrap around his cock, jacking it slow and easy. Jensen returns the favor, turned on just by the noises that Jared makes. It is more than sex now, more than instinct. They make love, Jensen thinks and he curls into Jared, warm and sated. They make love.

***

The sound of a car engine makes him tense. He doesn’t know if he should run and hide or if he should just surrender. He clings onto Jared, feeling the younger man trembling against him. Jared looks terrified and Jensen knows that Jared fears he will be taken away from Jensen, that Jared will be alone again.

When he sees Jeff he almost collapses with relief and he runs out to embrace his friend, Jared at his heels. Jeff hugs them both, petting Jared and letting Jared nuzzle him. Jeff looks tired and weary, his face pale, his eyes shadowed.

“They are looking for you but they have to be careful.” Jeff sips at the beer Jensen gave him. “This operation was top secret – hush – hush and they cannot release the reason for Rosenbaum’s death. The party line is that someone broke into the facility and attacked him, in reality they have search parties out for you and it will be a matter of time before they find you.”

“What are we going to do?” Jensen has never felt so alone, cut off from his family and what few friends he had left.

“I’ve been thinking....” Jeff stared over at Jared who was sitting on his haunches watching them. “And I do have a solution, although it is rather drastic.”

 

“I’m too much of a coward for suicide.” Jensen tries to make it sound like a joke but his throat hurts and Jeff only manages a feeble smile.

“How would you feel about leaving Vancouver?”

“Leaving?”

“Never seeing your family again, never coming back here . . . just disappearing, missing assumed dead.” Jeff shook his head. “How do you feel about that?”

Jensen bit his lip and glanced at Jared. The younger man’s eyes were on him, bright and pleading. Jensen was Jared’s only constant, his only hope.

“How?” He asked, finally.

“There are remote islands in Scotland and in Ireland. I know Europe is a long way away but it would be somewhere they would never look.”

“Can we get out of the country?”

“I’ve a couple of acquaintances from my student days – they are master forgers and well they will do anything for the mighty dollar.” He smiled wryly. “I can have all the documents ready for you, all you need to do is to keep him calm and – well _human_. What do you say?”

Jensen felt his stomach clench and his eyes burn.

He only hoped that his love was strong enough to do this.

And at this stage, hope was all he did have.


	11. Chapter 11

The passports look good, real and, strangely convincing. Jensen remembers how hard it was to get Jared to have his photograph taken and he never thought it would work. Jeff’s friend, however, is awesome and the forgeries are excellent and, for the first time, Jensen feels confident about all this.

He hasn’t done much in the way of disguise, just taken to wearing his glasses instead of his contacts, grown his hair a little and stopped shaving. They have cut Jared’s hair a little shorter, let his beard grow.

Jensen knows that they will be looking for them but that the search will be low profile. He hopes this will work in their favor but he really doesn’t know. He thought, once he had made his decision, that he would feel better about this but he doesn’t, not really. He wishes he could speak to his momma one last time, maybe send a text to his little sister, chat to his dad. He feels a lump in his throat so hard that it threatens to choke him and he buries his head in his hands. He is never going to see his family again and it hurts. Hurts that they are going to believe he is dead, hurts that they will never really know what happened to him. He thinks, distantly, of the vets, of his job, of all the people who knew him. He thinks about Tom, wondering if his ex will read the news, wondering if he will mourn his _‘passing’_. He hadn’t meant to do this but now he had started he couldn’t stop and the sobs burst out of him, salty tears streaming down his cheeks.

A hand, big and warm, rubs circles on his back. He doesn’t have to look up to see who it is because he knows the feel of that hand, clumsy and awkward, it warms him. He lifts his head and buries it into Jared’s broad chest, nuzzling closer, letting Jared take him into his arms, letting Jared hold him.

Jared makes a soft sound in the back of his throat and Jensen recognizes it as distress. He tries to stop crying but he can’t and he can’t make Jared understand why he is so upset. He swallows hard and, finally, gets a grip on his emotions.

He pulls away from Jared and wipes his eyes. Jared is sitting on the bed next to him, curled up into a ball, his slanting, cat-like eyes watching him with some emotion. Jared grunts, his mouth moving and Jensen can almost feel Jared’s frustration as he tries to speak.

“It’s okay, Jared.” Jensen very rarely says his name and he isn’t sure if Jared really understands. “It is okay.”

Jared has an odd expression on his face, Jensen might almost say it was doubt. He feels his heart lurch in his chest and he grabs Jared’s shoulders hard causing the other man to growl in surprise, his teeth nipping at Jensen’s wrist.

“It will be okay,” he says again, softer now, anchoring Jared to him. Jared makes a strange sound and when Jensen looks again there are tears smearing down his cheeks and his eyes overflow. “Oh, Jared.” Jensen wants to say more, do more, but there is nothing left for him to say or do. He shakes his head and pulls Jared ever closer wanting, suddenly, to feel the warmth of that hard body pressed against him.

Jared moans and lays back pulling Jensen with him. Jensen can feel Jared’s hardness through the thin material of his shorts and he makes quick work of them pulling them off and wrapping his finger around Jared’s cock. Jared groans and writhes, his movements more human than Jensen can ever remember. Jared bucks into Jensen’s fist and clumsy hands come and close around Jensen’s own erection, tugging and twisting, the pleasure just on the right side of pain. Jensen knows he won’t last long, knows that he needs this now, knows that this is his and will be his when everything else is gone.

When he comes it is so powerful he almost whites out and he hears Jared give a little sob as he too reaches his climax spurting all over Jensen’s fingers.

They sleep wrapped together, Jared curling over Jensen protectively, guarding him from danger, his hands tight and possessive around Jensen’s biceps. Jensen feels warm and wanted, safe from everything and he prays, hard, that they will be able to do this, that they will be able to leave this life and make another one for themselves.

****

Jeff comes bright and early. He looks pale, his beard flecked with grey, dark shadows under his eyes. Jensen hugs him tightly, clinging on like a child and Jeff hugs back. He lifts tired eyes to Jensen’s and manages a weak smile.

“Mrs Padalecki came to see me last night,” he is whispering even though they both know Jared can’t understand what is being said. “She says she doesn’t blame Jared for what happened and she gave me this.”

He hands Jensen a check made out in the name of Jensen’s new identity. Jensen stares at the black numbers for a long, long time and then he turns back to Jeff, eyes wide.

“You’re kidding me,” he breathes.

“No, she wants her grandson to be happy and safe. She realizes that there is no way he will fit into the circles in which she moves. She just wants him to be happy, Jensen.”

“What am I going to do with this?”

“Whatever you want. Buy some land, from what I understand it is pretty cheap where you are going and the cottage that we’ve rented for you might very well be up for sale in the future.”

“I’m so fucking scared.” Jensen wants to cling to Jeff. “What if they . . . what if they catch us?”

“They won’t, it’ll be fine. They are still keeping it all hush-hush, so the public won’t be on the lookout.” Jeff grins then and ruffles Jensen’s hair. “None of this is your fault, you are the innocent party, you and Jared. What they did – what we did, it just wasn’t humane. We took him away from everything he knew and you are all he has left.”

“You were right.” Jensen admits. “I love him, have done for some time. Maybe it isn’t right, maybe it isn’t normal and maybe people would think me a little weird but I love him. If he gets out of this happy and safe, then that is all that matters.”

“Then we better get going.” Jeff reached into his bag and pulled out a syringe and Jensen felt a stab of alarm.

“What is that?”

“Mild sedative, there is no way he is going to cope in a crowded airport. They give this to nervous flyers – takes away all your fears and makes you mellow.” He grins again. “It’ll be like a nice little acid trip – don’t worry.”

Jensen glanced over to where Jared lay, still sleeping and he nodded.

“Let’s do this thing,” he said.

****

Jensen watched nervously as the smiling assistant stamped his baggage and weighed it. He hadn’t taken much, just clothing and essentials. He had no idea what he would need where they were going so he decided to travel light. Beside him, Jared clung to his arm, his teeth bared in a decidedly goofy smile. Jensen could see how loose Jared was, his legs still wobbly, Jared still uneasy on two feet. The assistant nodded to Jared,

“Nervous flyer?”

“Yeah.” Jensen took the boarding passes from her. “He hasn’t flown much.”

She nodded and smiled again and they were over the first hurdle and into the boarding area.

****

The plane was bigger than anything Jensen was used to. He had always wanted to travel but had only really gone from state to state. He sat back in his seat, staring out into the darkness, knowing this would be the last time he saw home, knowing that he would never come back here.

The farewell with Jeff had been painful enough and, in some ways, he was glad he wouldn’t have to go through that with his parents. He bit back tears and wrapped his fingers around Jared’s limp hand. The younger man was asleep beside him, almost curled in on himself, large frame barely fitting into the seat. Jensen sighed. He wished that he could have a dose of whatever Jeff had given Jared because his stomach was still clenched with nerves. He listened to the pilot’s instructions and fastened his belt, the feeling of relief, as they began to coast down the runway, so strong that he almost passed out.

And then they were in the air and Jensen watched as the land dropped away. He could see the distant mountains and the tips of the trees, where Jared had once had his home, he could see the lights flickering below him and he wondered if Jeff was watching for them, knowing he owed the older man a debt so large that he could never repay it.

He held Jared’s hand tight and let his own eyes close. His life was changing beyond his wildest imaginings and he was about to take another step forward into the unknown. He felt Jared’s head loll onto his shoulder and he smiled, lifting his free hand and running fingers through that soft, untamed hair.

They were going to make it – they were going to be fine.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for bottom!Jensen in this chapter

The plane touched down on the tarmac and Jensen stretched out, his legs and neck cracking.

He could see the dim lights of the city to the left of them and, despite the fact that it was dark, he could see the soft swirls of mist around the snow topped mountains that dominated the horizon. He yawned and shifted, Jared’s head flopping on his shoulder. The younger man snorted a little and opened confused eyes. Jensen smiled at him, shushing him gently, keeping his arm firmly around Jared’s shoulders. The tranquilizer was beginning to wear off and Jared looked a little spooked, his eyes bright.

They managed to get through the tiny customs without any incidents. Jensen shuddered as he realized how cold it was here. He could see his breath in the air and he wished he had brought a thicker coat. Next to him Jared made a soft whimpering noise in the back of his throat and Jensen pulled him closer whispering nonsense into his ear. Jared was shivering and Jensen snuggled into him trying to keep them both warm.

He picked up their luggage and went outside into the freezing night air. People swirled around him, unfamiliar accents echoing in his ears. Jared was leaning heavily on him, panting hard and fast, and Jensen knew he had to get them out of here and into their hotel as soon as humanly possible.

He hailed a black cab and the driver got out, taking their luggage and throwing it into the trunk. It seemed strange, Jensen mused, to see the steering wheel on the wrong side, the cab was so small, the road narrows.

“Where to?” When the driver spoke Jensen realized he hadn’t exchanged a word with anyone since leaving Vancouver. He hadn’t thought about this aspect of his new life, hadn’t realized how isolated he was going to feel, unable to talk to Jared was going to be hard and he shivered with more than cold.

“The Red Stag Hotel,” he said, reading off the paper that Jeff had given him. “Please.”

“Tourists?” The driver was elderly, white haired and ruddy faced, his accent alien and thick.

“No, we – we have rented a house on the Isle of Canna,” Jensen said, keeping his arm around Jared who was fidgeting in his seat, a growl in the back of his throat warning Jensen how close to panic he was. “It was recommended to me by a friend.”

“Good Christ, man!” The driver looked stunned. “That island has a population of fifteen – a school with one pupil and there are just 1 or 2 ferries a week, there at this time of year. What are ye – an escaped prisoner?”

Jensen’s laugh was weak and unconvincing but he didn’t think the man noticed. He shook his head and huddled closer to Jared, shushing him again, stroking his hair. Jared snorted and wrapped long arms tight around Jensen’s waist, burying his head into Jensen’s neck and nipping at the skin there. Jensen bit his lip and saw the driver staring at them, blue eyes curious.

“He just very affectionate,” he said, finally, wondering what the man was thinking.

“Aye – I can see that.” The driver broke into a crooked smile. “Is he…,” he paused for a moment, his neck going red. “Is he a little – we like to say _'touched'_ in this neck o’ the woods.”

Jensen couldn’t help but laugh again, more relaxed and genuine. “Yeah, you could say that,” he said, finally, letting Jared nip and nuzzle, knowing the younger man was taking comfort from his actions. “He’s a good man though and he deserves this.”

The driver said nothing but he grinned back just the same.

The rest of the journey was spent in companionable silence, Jensen watching the scenery skim by, his eyes feeling heavy with tiredness, his back sore from the long flight, his arms aching.

Finally they reached their hotel and the driver got out and handed Jensen his luggage. Jensen gave him a wad of notes, hoping he had paid enough and the driver thrust the money into his money bag, his flushed face telling Jensen he had been more than generous.

Their room was large and spacious, the windows looking out onto the snow capped mountains, the distant gray of the sea and the thick trees of the nearby woods. It was not dissimilar to their cabin in the forests of Vancouver and Jensen could see the longing in Jared’s tip-tilted eyes, feel the throb of energy that pulsed through the younger man’s veins, knowing that Jared wanted to go outside and run wild and free.

“Not today.” Jensen stroked Jared’s soft hair and helped him out of his clothes, folding them and putting them into the large wooden wardrobe. It was warm in the room and the bed was piled high with blankets. Jensen yawned and buried himself under the sheets, pulling Jared with him. He left the curtains open though and they both lay still and quiet, watching the trees blowing in the winter wind, watching the moon wax and wane, the sky beginning to lighten as, finally, Jensen slept.

****

“Jen-sen.” For a moment he thinks he must be dreaming. He can hear his name being spoken, soft and hoarse against his ear. He doesn’t recognize the voice but he feels comforted by it and he leans back into his pillow, wanting to go back to the warmth of sleep again, to the dream he is having.

“Je – n – sen.” The voice drags his name out painfully and Jensen opens his eyes slowly, his lids heavy. The room is in semi darkness, soft morning light creeping in through the open curtains, obscured by the trees. Jensen groans and rolls over wanting to bury his head in the softness of the pillow.

It is only then that the realization hits him and he opens his eyes wider to see Jared crouched beside him, slanting eyes fixed on his face, fingers trailing over Jensen’s shoulders and neck, mouth open, forming Jensen’s name haltingly and awkwardly, his cheeks flushed with the effort.

“Jared?” Jensen’s throat is tight, he can feel his eyes burning with more than tiredness and he rubs his fingers across his face, unable to say anything other than Jared’s own name, his mouth so dry that his tongue sticks to the roof of it. “Jared.”

The younger man bares his teeth and he dips down nipping hard on Jensen’s lower lip, forcing it open with his tongue, his kiss clumsy and wet.

“Jen-sen,” he says, against Jensen’s mouth, as if he is trying out the new word. He looks oddly pleased with himself, the emotions on his face purely human and at odds with his body language which is still animalistic and feral.

Jensen gasps into Jared’s mouth and deepens the kiss, his body hot and flushed, his cock hard against the sheets. Jared growls and rips the blankets from Jensen’s body, nipping and biting at Jensen’s hectic skin, his hands rubbing across Jensen’s chest, his hips, his thighs.

Jared’s big hands flip him over in an instant and Jensen knows with painful clarity what Jared wants and needs right now. He lets himself be moved, manipulated, let’s himself be rolled onto his stomach and he lifts himself up onto his hands and knees, bracing himself against the headboard, Jared’s hands like a brand against his skin.

“Jen-sen.” Jared bites his earlobe hard and Jensen bucks up, his neck straining. Jared whimpers then and thrusts hard against Jensen’s ass, his cock rubbing wetly, insistently, until, suddenly he is inside Jensen and the pain is almost too much.

There is no prep, no lube, nothing but Jensen can’t bring himself to care. He has never done this with or for anyone before. Tom was always the bottom in their relationship and Jensen never really questioned it, happy to go with the flow. Now Jared pants above him, wild and un-abandoned, his hands gripping hard on Jensen’s hips, his teeth fixed into Jensen’s neck. It hurts but at this angle, pain gives way to a hot pleasure as Jared hits his prostate over and over again. Jensen moans and manages to get one hand beneath himself to grip at his own cock. Two or three thrusts and he comes, panting and groaning, his whole body tense. Jared grunts and Jensen feels the heat of the younger man’s orgasm fill him. They both plunge forward onto the bed, the springs creaking and complaining and Jensen feels hysterical laughter building as he wonders what their neighbors must be thinking right now.

As he comes down he clings to Jared, watching as the younger man curls into him, his head resting on Jensen’s chest, fingers curling into Jensen’s shoulder, mouth soft and warm on his skin.

Jared said his name; to Jensen that single word was as close to a declaration of love as he was ever going to get. That single word made his journey worthwhile, made his isolation bearable. He swallowed hard and held Jared tighter, all his love, need and desire wrapped together in that hug, his body throbbing with pleasure and pain, his mind too full to rest.

Instead he watched as the sun rose above the trees and turned the gray sky into a vibrant blue and he smiled as he watched the dawn of a brand new day and a brand new life.


	13. Chapter 13

There are two ferries per week in the winter.

Jensen has tickets for the last one out. It is a Friday and bitterly cold, his breath making patterns in the early morning air. Jared twitches beside him, impatient and eager. He hasn’t been able to get out much and Jensen can see the wildness about the edges of his eyes, feel him vibrating with untapped energy.

Jensen has them both wrapped in more clothes than either of them is used to. Even Vancouver was never as icy cold as this and Jensen wants to be as warm as possible. He wears a large sweater under his coat, a beanie pulled down low over his eyes, gloves on his hands and hardy work boots over two layers of socks. He managed to get Jared into a thick sweater and jeans and he even got the younger man into trainers. Jared doesn’t appear to feel the cold as much as Jensen, possibly due to the fact that he spent his first twenty-six years naked.

The ferry is empty but Jared still wants to sit up top, his head up, his nose wrinkling as he sniffs the air. The man who takes their tickets looks at them in the same way that the taxi driver did and Jensen wonders if all the locals are going to think that Jared is insane.

There are seals swimming alongside the ferry, brown and furry, they poke whiskered noses out of the gray water and slide back under again. Jared runs to the side of the ferry and bends over the rail, his excitement tangible.

“Jen-sen,” he says and Jensen feels his chest tighten. He comes up behind Jared and puts his arm around the other man’s waist. He holds on tightly, his body finally warm, his heart pounding.

“Careful buddy,” he says, finally. “We don’t want you falling in.”

“Jen-s-en.” Jared draws out his name; he is still watching the seals and his eyes were bright with wonder. “Jen-sen.”

Jensen gets it, honestly he does. He just wishes, for a moment that Jared could talk to him that Jared could really let him know how he feels. He gets that Jared is happy, he gets that Jared is content with him, that he is excited to be here, that Jared loves him. He hugged Jared closer and Jared leaned back and rested his head on Jensen’s shoulder, rolling his neck a little so that he could nip and nuzzle at Jensen’s throat, his teeth sharp and more than a little painful in Jensen’s tender skin.

“Hey,” Jensen laughs. “No biting.” He pulls Jared’s mouth away from his neck and drops a kiss on Jared’s mouth. Jared growls in his throat and bares his teeth in a smile, dimples deep in his cheeks. Jensen holds Jared closer still and they stay like that, warm and content, watching the seals as they coast through the water.

****

The island is bigger than Jensen expected but it is mostly land, wild and untamed, the whole area surrounded by the blue/gray ocean.

The village where they will be living is small and compact. There are several houses, a local pub, a small church, a post office come village store, a tiny school with one pupil and a bank. Jensen has never seen a place so deserted and he realizes that Jeff’s choice was an excellent one.

The house in which they will be living is large and spacious. It has a modern kitchen, a large cozy lounge, two bedrooms that overlook the sea and a garden that is big enough for Jared to run around in.

Despite the cold Jared is outside before Jensen can even start to unpack. Jared looks so happy and at home here, his hair whipping around his face in the strong wind, his trainers kicked off so that he could run barefoot through the heather and the tangled grass. He sniffs the air and rolls in the earth barely refraining from howling his joy, his face turned up to the sky, his teeth bared in a huge grin, his arms outstretched.

“It’s good isn’t it?” Jensen shivers next to Jared. It is getting late and he is starving. Jeff has made sure that the kitchen is well-stocked, that there is a computer for Jensen’s use, that there is a huge TV, plenty of books and some training materials in case Jensen wants to continue with Jared’s instructions. Jensen swallows a lump in his throat, wishing he could thank Jeff, wishing he could talk to him.

They had agreed that Jensen could never get in contact with him, agreed that it would be safer for everyone if Jensen just vanished. No-one would ever think to look for them here and, with the exception of Jeff and Mrs Padalecki, everyone thought they were dead.

Finally he manages to get Jared inside and fed. Jared yawns expansively and flops onto the carpet, his head resting on his folded arms. Jensen smiles and sits down next to him petting his hair. Jared whimpers and snuggles closer to Jensen, rubbing his head against Jensen’s thigh, his eyes heavy with sleep.

“I love you Jared,” Jensen keeps saying it, knowing that Jared might not understand the words but knows that the tone is warm, that Jensen really means what he says.

Jared rolls his head and looks up into Jensen’s face. He smiles, his teeth white in his sun-browned face. He lifts a big hand and strokes Jensen’s cheek with long fingers. His eyes are bright and soft, the pupils wide and black. Jared opens his mouth and makes a sound somewhere between a whimper and a grunt and Jensen smiles back, throat tight. He knows what Jared is trying to say and it is enough for now.

Perhaps, a few more years down the line, he will hear the words he craves.

****

The first few weeks were lonely and bleak.

Winters on the island are cold and bitter, winds and snow blowing down from the mountains and turning the air almost blue. Jensen had been huddled by the coal fire, suffering from a head cold and chest infection that eventually turned so severe he had to call for the local doctor.

He hadn’t realized until that moment how alone he actually was, how much would be at stake if he ever did fall seriously ill. Jared had been panicked and desperate, circling the doctor until the poor man had almost run from the house in fear. Jensen had calmed the situation by explaining to the doctor that Jared was _‘touched’_ and that seemed to work. The Scottish, Jensen discovered, seemed to have a soft spot for those they believed to be _‘away with the fairies’_ (the doctor’s expression – not his) and, after the doctor’s visit, he found himself being visited by the island’s other residents; the school teacher, the priest and even the man who delivered their mail.

Within a few weeks they had become members of the local community and were invited to each house in turn. Jensen tried to turn down those invitations, fear of what might happen plaguing him, the memory of Rosenbaum, his throat torn and bleeding, still fresh in his mind. The good folks of Canna, however, had other ideas, they seemed determined to feed and water both Jared and Jensen and soon he was unable to refuse.

Jared, however, was on his best behavior and Jensen was proud of him. He would try so hard to sit still and quiet at the dinner table, try not to plunge his hand into the bowls of food, try not to growl or snarl, attempt not to nip and nuzzle at Jensen. Even if he did slip up, whoever was playing host seemed not to mind, they would laugh at Jared, let him sniff at them, let him nuzzle at their hands or lick at their necks. They were genuinely fond of this strange, wild creature in their midst and they embraced both men, enfolding them in love and trust and making Jensen feel happier than he had in years.

Six months after moving in, Jensen went down to the local bank to deposit the check that Mrs Padalecki had given him. It was summer now and the weather was balmy and hot, unseasonably warm he had been told by the vicar during one of their meals together.

Jared loped along beside him in t-shirt and shorts, feet bare, skin brown and healthy now, teeth white, hair long and wild around his shoulders. He nudged at Jensen with his head and Jensen dropped a kiss on his hair, feeling the softness beneath his lips. Jared shivered with delight and nuzzled closer, his mouth curved up into a real, human, smile.

They were so happy together, so content. Sex was good and regular and Jensen found that he was no longer lonely, no longer scared, the memories of his old life were beginning to fade and he had so much hope for his future, for their future.

He was going to buy their house and the land that surrounded it. He loved the long tangle of heather which led from their gate to the sea, loved to watch Jared swim in the cold water, loved to see him flop, boneless and exhausted on the pebbled beach, his eyes closed, his lips curved upwards in pure pleasure.

“Good morning sir.” The cashier was young and pretty, a student from the mainland who worked here during her summer vacation. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah.” He sat down on the seat opposite her, Jared squatting beside him on his haunches, his eyes bright and curious, fixed on the girl’s smiling face. “I want to bank a check.”

“Certainly sir.” She flirted with him good naturedly and Jensen wondered what she would say if she realized how pointless her flirting was. He had given his heart over a year ago and he wasn’t going to change his mind. Jared held his heart just as surely as he held his love and his devotion. Everything he did now he did for Jared and he didn’t resent it, not for a minute, not for a second.

She took the check and stared at it, eyes wide, mouth curved, impossibly, wider. She shook her head and touched Jensen’s hand, her voice full of awe.

“Do you know what this makes you, Sir?” She asked, finally, breathlessly.

“No.” He frowned, his hand reaching down unconsciously to pet Jared’s head. “What does it make me?”

“The richest man on the island,” she said with a laugh and Jensen swallowed hard.

He couldn’t disagree with her there.

****

The sale went through without a hitch and he and Jared were homeowners. He sat in the garden, half-naked, the sun on his face, eyes closed as he dozed lazily, nothing to do and nowhere to go, content and warm.

“Jen-sen.” Jared climbed into his lap, naked and grubby, cock hard against his stomach, hair in his eyes, mouth open to show white teeth. “Jen-sen.”

“Hey!” Jensen put a gentle hand on Jared’s shoulder. “Sleeping here.”

“Jensen.” For the first time Jared said his name clearly, completely and Jensen looked up, heart in mouth, the whole world stilling expectantly.

“Jensen – love – love Jensen,” Jared murmured, tender and slow, his body undulating against Jensen’s, his head coming to rest on Jensen’s bare shoulder. “Love Jensen. Jar-ed – Ja-red love Jensen.”

Jensen swallowed, tears spilling down his cheeks, tears of such joy he didn’t believe that anything could make him happier.

“Jensen love Jared too,” he replied and he knew then that they were home safe. That they would live forever where the land was wild and untamed, just like the man in his arms.

End


End file.
